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The last thing I want before I slip into dreamland is his musky, intoxicating scent wrapped around me like a blanket.
However, I think that’s exactly why the spare room is a better option.
“If that’s what you want, you’re welcome to sleep in there,” he says, the disappointment in his gaze tugging at my heartstrings.Shit.Clearly, I’m not the only one who wants me to sleep in bed with him.
Finally, I shake my head and approach the side of the bed. “No, I want to sleep here–”
“Then, come here.” He pulls back the comforter and slides further under the covers as I crawl into bed next to him.
Without missing a beat, he pulls me into his arms, and I nestle into his embrace with my head on his chest.Exactly like I imagined.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Jessa,” he says, his fingers dancing along my arm until my eyes flutter closed. “I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, but the second you say this is over, we’ll go right back to the way things were. I promise.”
“I’m not afraid,” I say. Of him, at least. I haven’t felt this completely safe in a long time, and that’s the part that’s terrifying.
What happens when he gets tired of me and I’m on my own again? What happens when this thin blanket of security is ripped away, and I’m forced to face the truth? When I’m forced to accept the fact that we can never truly be together?
I sigh. “Just thinking, that’s all.”
“Don’t think,” he says, reaching to turn off the lamp next to him with a click. “Sleep now. You can think later.”
He’s right, I think as sleep threatens to pull me under, unconsciousness quickly swooping in to claim me. I can worry about all this tomorrow.
Right now, I just need to enjoy our one night together and savor it for everything it’s worth.
eighteen
JESSA
When I wake up, I’m disoriented.
Part of me forgot that I fell asleep curled up next to Alessandro. The other part is so deeply embedded in a dream about him, that when my eyes crack open and I find myself in his bed, I think I’m still dreaming.
Brief flashes of last night bloom to life in my thoughts, causing heat to scorch my cheeks and a flutter to erupt in my stomach.
Then, I realize I’m alone, and my heart rate spikes.
Where the hell did he go?
His scent is everywhere–on the bed, on my skin, in my hair–but he’s not here, and panic sets in.
Did I do something to make him leave in the middle of the night? Did he leave for work without telling me goodbye?
The thoughts sour my stomach, and I scramble off the bed, running to the closet and grabbing one of his shirts off a hanger. I pull it on over my head, breathing in a deep breath of him as the fabric settles around my frame, and I head for the door.
The house is quiet, but there’s no sign of Alessandro, which causes the pit in my chest to sink further into my stomach.
Surely he didn’t leave without saying anything.
Not after… everything.
I hit the top of the stairs, nearly taking them two at a time. When I reach the bottom, the smell of breakfast breaks through the bourbon-soaked shirt.
Alessandro stands behind the kitchen island, spooning sausage out of a frying pan onto a pair of plates. He’s prepared a full spread of eggs, hash browns, sausage, and biscuits, and my mouth waters equally at the sight of food and him cooking for me again.
I’ve never had an alpha who wanted to cook for me. Instead, it’s always been the other way around.
In fact, part of me feels bad that I didn’t wake up early enough to cook for Alessandro, which triggers a snowballing feeling of guilt as I watch him shift around the kitchen.
