“And?”
“And this is the honeymoon suite of a motel where the bed vibrates to Elvis.”
I laugh despite everything, despite the heat pulsing through me, despite the way his voice goes rough when he says my name. “You’re not wrong.”
Jonah’s hands slide up to my waist, thumbs brushing gently along my ribs through the thin fabric of my shirt. “I don’t want our first time to be like this.”
He said first time like there will be more. Like he’s already thinking past tonight.
“I’m not going to break,” I murmur, but I know he’s right. My shoulder throbs beneath the sling, a persistent reminder that I am definitely not at full capacity.
“I know,” he says softly. “But, I want our first time to be…special? I know that sounds cliche, but I don’t think I could live with myself if I hurt you.”
The tenderness in his voice undoes something in me. My eyes burn unexpectedly, and I duck my head, pressing my forehead against his chest. His heart hammers beneath my ear, steady and sure.
“I’m not used to someone putting my needs before theirs,” I admit quietly.
Jonah’s hand finds the back of my neck, fingers sliding gently through my tangled curls. “Well, get used to it.”
Max lets out a soft snort from his position at our feet, reminding us of his continued presence.
Jonah and I both look at the dog, who regards us with what can only be described as canine disapproval.
“I think he’s judging us.”
Jonah’s chest rumbles with a quiet laugh beneath me. “I think we deserve it.”
I lift my head from his chest, suddenly aware of how we must look—me straddling him in a tacky honeymoon suite, both of us flushed and breathless. “We should probably...”
“Yeah.” Jonah’s hands settle carefully at my waist, helping me slide off him with a gentleness that makes my chest ache. The cool air hits my skin as I settle back on my side of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going? Come here” he murmurs, lifting the blanket to make space for me against his side.
I hesitate for just a moment before tucking myself against him, my slinged arm tucked against his chest. His arm wraps around me carefully, mindful of my injured shoulder, but still holding me close.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his chin brushing against my forehead.
“More than okay.” I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of him.
We lie there in comfortable silence, the only sounds our breathing and Max’s occasional sighs from the foot of the bed. My shoulder throbs dully, but the pain seems distant compared to the warmth of Jonah beside me.
“So,” I whisper, tracing a pattern on his chest with my fingers. “This is happening.”
“It appears to be.”
“We should probably talk about what that means.”
“We will,” he promises. “Tomorrow.”
I tilt my head back just enough to look at him. “You’re stalling.”
“No, I am prioritizing sleep.”
Jonah’s fingers move slowly against my skin, absent and careful, like he can’t quite believe I’m here beside him. Like this entire night has been a dream.
“Sleep, Lila.”
It’s not long after that a soft snore comes from Jonah. Between him, and the rain pelting outside the motel windows, sleep finally drags me under.
