Avyaane’s POV

The pale gold of morning slid across Blair’s bed in soft lines, warming the white sheets tangled around him. He was stretched diagonally across the mattress, shirtless, one long arm dangling toward the floor. Even asleep, he looked like trouble waiting to happen.

I sat in the armchair by the side of the window, knees tucked under my chin, watching him breathe. I’d been up for a while, thinking about the way he’d burned with fever last night — how he’d clung to me in ...