And then…He started snoring. Not a delicate snore. Not a subtle breathing thing. A full, confident, unashamed snore.
What the hell?
Immediately? How? HOW? That wasn't fair. That was illegal. Somewhere, a romance author should have been fined. I stared into the darkness, deeply and personally offended. Truly. Profoundly. On a spiritual level. How could he just… sleep when I was right behind him? Existing? Breathing? Emotionally struggling?
The audacity. But fine. Sleep. Sure. Absolutely. Any minute now.
I closed my eyes. Opened them again. Adjusted the blanket. Shifted once. Twice. Tried not to think about how warm his back was. Or how steady his breathing had become. Or how relaxed he looked while committing this crime against romantic tension.
Minutes passed. Hours passed. Time became theoretical.
