ELLA

Despite the way my heart picks up pace from the contact, despite the way my face flushes, I make a mean face. “Wow. What a lucky morning this is. Must have been Hitler in my past life for your face to be the first I see waking up.”

He grins. What a nice set of teeth to have. His hair is tied into a bun on his head, leaving two tendrils falling across his forehead. Like yesterday, the tank top still hugs his chest and biceps like sin, paired with a grey sweatpant that just makes him ...