I prepared for panic.
Instead, his eye opened slowly and found my face.
“Morning,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.”
He blinked, then looked down at his palm.
“You stayed.”
“I promised.”
A faint flush moved beneath his skin.
“How long did I sleep?”
“Four hours. Perhaps five.”
“Without waking?”
“Not that I noticed.”
He seemed to test the answer against the way his body felt.
“My head hurts.”
“Worse than usual?”
“No.”
“Nausea?”
“No.”
“Dizziness?”
“I’m lying down.”
“That has not prevented it before.”
His mouth curved.
I wanted to brush my thumb over that small smile.
I kept my hands where they were.
Noah’s gaze traveled over my face, then down the length of us as though he had only just understood how closely we were lying. His hand slid from my chest, but he did not pull away.
“Did I hold on to you all night?”
“Most of it.”
“Sorry.”
“No.”
He closed his eye. “Right. No apologies.”
