Page 37 of Fragile Hearts

Sloane laughs, sliding down under the covers so her head is resting on the pillow. I do the same, rolling onto my side to face her. Mochi jumps straight up, trotting up between us before lying down again, his head resting on his front paws as he looks from me to Sloane before letting out a contented sigh and closing his eyes.

“I think maybe now he’s happy,” she says.

I reach out and pat him. “I think maybe this dog is very spoiled.”

“Oh, oh, are we raising a terror?” Sloane asks, smiling.

I scoff out a laugh. “Maybe, but there’s nothing wrong with spoiling someone you care about.”

Sloane meets my eyes now, a soft smile on her face as she watches me. She doesn’t say anything though and I can’t resist reaching over to tuck some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

“I’m glad you feel safe here,” I say, my words quiet.

“I do,” she says. “Thank you.”

Smiling, I pull my hand back, only for Sloane to catch it in hers, squeezing gently before she rests our joined hands on the bed between us.

“Anytime, Sloane.”

Mochi’s eyes open, and he sniffs at our hands, letting out a huff before closing his eyes again. The two of us laugh before Sloane says, “How’d he manage to get up on your bed?”

“Huh?” I ask, confused.

“Mochi?” she says. “When he first ran out of here, I went to get him and he was on your bed. You were in the shower so...” She trails off, that blush once again coloring her cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have come into your room. It?—”

I squeeze her hand. “It’s totally fine. I don’t mind if you do,” I tell her, meaning it. She’s welcome in my room, in my bed, in my everywhere, anytime she wants. “But to answer your question,” I add, chuckling a little, “I stacked a bunch of shit beside the bed so he could climb up.”

Sloane lets out a laugh, her eyes sparkling as she says, “You did what?”

I shrug. “He looked so pathetic trying to jump up all the time, so I figured why not help him out.”

“God, you are such a softie,” she says, laughing.

Grinning, I say, “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” she replies, and this time we both laugh.

I reach behind me now to switch off the lamp, and the room falls into a muted darkness, the moonlight coming in through the open blinds, enough that I can still see Sloane.

“Goodnight,” I whisper.

Sloane smiles before she leans over and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Owen.”

The next morning, I wake early, Sloane’s bedroom bathed in sunlight. Mochi has disappeared, and instead, I’m lying in bed, wrapped around Sloane, her back to my front. She’s still asleep, and I’m trying to control my heart rate for fear the hard pounding of it against my rib cage wakes her.

Fuck me, it feels so good to wake up in her bed with her in my arms, and I can’t resist burying my face in her hair and inhaling her scent. Sloane huffs out a cute little breath before rolling over and blinking her eyes open, smiling when she’s finally awake.

“Hey,” she whispers, her voice still husky with sleep.

“Morning,” comes my equally husky reply.

Her eyes flick down, maybe noticing how close we currently are or that Mochi is missing. I half-expect her to move, but just as I lift the arm that’s still draped across her waist, she shocks the shit out of me by leaning in and kissing me.

It’s soft and slow, kind of sleepy like she still is, but it’s still more perfect and amazing than any kiss from Sloane I have dreamed about. Same with last night, kissing her on the deck as she sat in my lap. All of it was perfect and something I definitely want more of.

She slides her hand across my hip now, her fingers brushing the bare skin above the waist of my boxers. I groan, the sound a low rumble in my chest as she moves closer, only inches of space now between us.

I’m fucking hard too, which is pretty standard for most mornings, only now, lying in her bed, waking with Sloane in my arms, I’m beyond hard.