The morning light crept in quietly, golden and slow, pouring in through Jake's bedroom window like honey. It painted soft streaks across the sheets and kissed the lines of Hriva's bare shoulders where the blanket had slipped down.
Jake woke first.
Or maybe he hadn't really slept at all.
He'd spent most of the night holding her, memorizing the shape of her body pressed into his, the way her breath deepened when she relaxed fully in his arms. He'd never had someone fall asleep so completely in his space before. Never realized how right it could feel.
Now, he lay there watching her, half afraid to move and break the spell.
She was on her side, facing him, one arm curled beneath the pillow, lips slightly parted. Her hair was a halo of dark silk against his white pillowcase, and the sunlight traced the curve of her cheek, her neck, the delicate slope of her shoulder.
Jake reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair from her face.
And that was when her eyes fluttered open.
Soft. Still caught in dreams.
"Mmm," she mumbled, voice husky with sleep. "You're staring."
He smiled. "Can you blame me?"
Hriva blinked slowly, then gave a sleepy, satisfied smile. "You look smug."
"I feel smug," he admitted. "I've got a beautiful woman in my bed, wearing my clothes, and wrapped around me like I'm her favorite pillow. Smug is the bare minimum."
She snorted. "You're insufferable."
"And you're glowing."
Hriva stretched, arms above her head, body arching just enough for the blanket to fall a little farther-exposing the soft skin of her stomach and the curve of her hip.
Jake's breath hitched.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said, catching his stare.
"Like what?"
"Like you're undressing me with your eyes."
Jake leaned in, murmuring, "I'm not undressing you with my eyes."
She raised a brow.
He grinned. "I already know what's underneath."
That earned him a playful slap on the chest, but she didn't pull away. In fact, she slid closer, her legs tangling with his again.
"Is this going to be a regular thing?" she asked, resting her hand over his heart.
"What? You sleeping in my bed or teasing me to death?"
"Both."
Jake ran his hand down her spine, slow and warm. "I'm counting on it."
They stayed like that for a while-skin to skin, hearts calm, bodies buzzing with unspoken promises.
Eventually, Hriva rolled over to check her phone on the nightstand. She blinked at the time. "Jake. It's almost ten."
"So?"
"So I was supposed to go home early."
He nuzzled into her neck, groaning. "Call in sick. To life."
She laughed, half tangled in his sheets. "I don't think it works like that."
"Then at least stay for breakfast."
"I didn't know this came with a meal plan."
"Oh, baby," Jake said, sitting up. "This boyfriend package comes fully loaded. Coffee, pancakes, and even fresh strawberries. You just have to keep looking this good in my T-shirt."
Hriva grinned, dragging the blanket up like a queen adjusting her robe. "Sold."
He climbed out of bed in nothing but sweats, ruffling his already-messy hair on the way to the kitchen. Hriva watched him go, her heart aching in the best way.
This wasn't casual.
This wasn't a fling.
This was becoming everything.
Ten minutes later, Jake returned with two mugs of coffee, a tray of toast and fruit, and a single daisy in a shot glass like it was a vase.
"You're ridiculous," Hriva said, but she was already smiling before she even finished the sentence.
He handed her the tray. "I believe the word you're looking for is 'irresistible.'"
She sipped her coffee, watching him through her lashes. "Okay. Maybe a little."
They ate together under the covers, toast crumbs on the sheets, knees bumping beneath the tray. At one point, Jake wiped a smudge of jam from her bottom lip with his thumb and didn't pull his hand away.
Their eyes locked.
Her breath caught.
And Jake leaned in.
But he stopped just short of kissing her.
"What are you waiting for?" she whispered.
His voice was low, his gaze heavy. "For you to tell me you're ready."
She didn't answer.
Instead, she leaned in, brushed her lips against his slowly, and whispered, "I've never been more ready."
But then she pulled back-just enough.
Because this was still a slow burn.
And it was still building.
They both knew it.
They could feel it in the silence.
In the way his hand rested on her thigh under the blanket. In the way her fingers traced his collarbone as if memorizing every curve.
This wasn't the morning they gave in completely.
But it was the morning they knew they would.
And soon.