The next morning, I woke to a wall of Collier. Everything in me wanted to snuggle into him, breathe in his comfort, memorize his scent, but the "History of Giselle" told me it was time to go. I hadn't done relationships in years, and the more I thought about where I was, the faster my heart started to race and panic set in. The walk of shame didn't appeal to me, and the only option remaining was silent flight, but as soon as I tried to pull out of his arms, he stirred. His grip around my waist tightened, and he hummed.
"Where are you going?" His voice was husky and warm.
"I need to get home." I kept pulling away from him, but he refused to allow me much distance.
"Stay."
I gave in to his embrace and lay next to him. I tried to read his features, see something in his eyes, expecting his
