~HAZEL~

The first thing I feel when consciousness creeps back is warmth—solid, steady heat beneath my cheek. My eyes flutter open to morning light filtering through the trees, and my heart stutters when I feel someone beneath me.

Ashton.

I don't even have to look up to know that it's him.

He's leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, head tilted back, eyes closed. He looks almost peaceful, the sharp lines of his face softened in sleep, dark lashes fanned against his skin. One ...