Travis didn't want to move. The world outside the sheets could burn for all he cared. His hand rested against the dip of Alice's waist, his thumb tracing the soft line of skin just beneath the hem of her sleep shirt. Her breathing was slow, steady—the kind of peaceful rhythm that tempted him to match it, to sink deeper into the warmth beside her and forget the world waited at all.
Her leg was slung lazily across his, cool and lithe. The way she always managed to curl herself around him made it nearly impossible to leave. Their bodies knew each other in sleep, a subtle choreography honed by time and tenderness.
He glanced at her face—partially hidden by the tousled curtain of her hair—and at the faint smile still playing at her lips from some lingering dream. He smiled despite himself.
"You're awake," she murmured, eyes still closed.
"Mm."
"I can feel you staring again."
"I wasn't staring. I was memorizing."
"Smooth."
