I wake up the next morning, wrapped up in Dominik’s arms. I blink wearily against the headache and try to sit up. Dominik grumbles and holds me down, burying his face into my hair. I smile, enjoying his warmth, and wrap one leg around his.

“It’s morning,” I whisper into his ear.

He sighs, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. “I do not want to get up,” he mumbles.

“You’re not hungry?” I ask.

As if in response, a low ...