Nia’s Pov
“I never said it was,” I mumbled, even though a part of me had half-hoped I’d imagined the whole thing, his hands on my skin, his voice in my ear, the way my body had melted under his touch.
Rowan chuckled under his breath, that low, rumbling sound that made my stomach flip. He leaned against the arm of the couch, looking far too comfortable for someone wrapped in a blanket that wasn’t his.
The morning light hit his bare chest, the defined lines of his abs catching the soft glow, and I quickly looked away, pretending to focus on my coffee instead of the man who made it.
“How do you feel?” he asked finally, voice gentler now.
“Like I got run over by a truck,” I muttered. “Or maybe just by you.”
He laughed, unbothered, and took a sip from his own mug. “You’re welcome, by the
