When he’s awake, there’s always something controlled in his face. Tight around the eyes. Intentional around the mouth.
But asleep, that disappears.
The tension that normally lives in his shoulders loosens, and the hard line of his mouth softens. His dark hair is pushed in the wrong direction from where he dragged a hand through it earlier, and without the sharp focus in his eyes, he almost looks… boyish.
Almost.
The tension is still there if you look closely enough. His jaw is set even in sleep. His brow pulls together every few breaths like his brain is still arguing with something behind closed doors.
But he doesn’t look like he’s in pain anymore.
That’s the important part.
The migraine finally loosened its grip sometime early this morning. I could tell when his breathing changed. The tight, shallow rhythm he’d been stuck in for hours slowly evened out.
I’ve been watching him ever since.
“Tessa.” His voice is rough from sleep. “Why are you staring at me?”
Okay, so staring at him with my hand on his chest could be viewed as a little creepy.
“Sorry.” I remove my hand from his chest and flash him a smile. “I was just monitoring.”
It’s not like I would really know if something changed with him. I’m not a doctor. But it’s the thought that counts.
Rowan’s brows arch, and his lips tip at the corner. “Sure.”
I gasp. “Are you suggesting that I was trying to grope you in your sleep?” I smack his chest lightly. “I would never!”
He shrugs. “Maybe you should. I wouldn’t mind waking up to a little tug and rub.”
Oh my gosh, he’s totally fine.
“You’re ridiculous.” I sit up in the bed and cross my legs. “How’s your head?”
“Fine.” He says the word as annoyed as he can.
“What about you? How are you feeling? You look terrible.”
Seriously, I know my hair must look a mess, and my eyeliner is probably down my cheek, but I decided last night that I wasn’t in the mood to wash my face. He should be thankful I brushed my teeth, though I’m not feeling that minty fresh this morning.
“Thanks, asshole. You’re welcome for taking care of you this whole time.”
Men, I swear. They just have to be cute, with all that sarcasm and abs.
His face turns serious, and I almost worry he’s in pain again, but then he says, “You’re always beautiful, even after pulling an all-nighter for your boyfriend.”
Boyfriend?
That’s a new word I thought I would never hear come out of his mouth again.
“Boyfriend?” I repeat. “Is that what you are?”
He sits up in bed and rakes a hand through his already-messy hair. “I mean… yeah. Unless you feel differently?”
I definitely don’t feel differently. “I think we are on the same page.”
I offer him a sweet smile and lean in to kiss him, but then I think about not brushing my teeth since last night and pull back. “I need to use the bathroom. Care to join me?”
