Page 77 of Fallen Flame

Thump.

A slow, steady heartbeat.

I smiled before I even opened my eyes.

Oliver.

Somehow during the night, I’d ended up practically plastered against him with my head resting on his chest, one leg thrown over his, and one of his arms draped securely around my waist like he’d fallen asleep making sure I couldn’t roll away.

My fingers absentmindedly traced little circles over his stomach beneath the sheet and his chest rumbled.

“I know you’re awake.”

I grinned against his shirt. “So are you.”

“I’ve been awake,” he grunted.

I tipped my head back enough to look at him. His blue eyes were already open, staring down at me instead of the ceiling. “How long?”

“A while.”

“That’s creepy.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ve just been enjoying the view.”

I snorted. “The view?”

“You.”

I blinked. Well, that wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. He wasn’t exactly known for tossing compliments around. “I thought you were going to tell me I drool.”

“I considered it.”

I gasped. “You would’ve lied to me?”

“I would’ve.”

I poked his side. “You know, this is like you waiting outside my bedroom door every morning.”

He looked at me questioningly.

“Except now...” I smiled. “...you’re in my bed, waiting for me to wake up.”

“I like this better.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in his answer.

“I think I do too.” I looked back up at him. “Morning, Ollie.” The nickname earned me another one of those little smiles that hardly anyone else ever got to see.

“Morning, Lark, though I think we are past saying good morning.”

“I have another question.”

“You usually do.”

“I have lots of questions.”

“I know.”