I woke up still trembling.
Not from cold.
Not from fear.
But from him.
I could still feel the echo of Edward's touch on my skin the warmth of his hands, the weight of his body, the way his lips moved like he already knew the map of me. My body remembered him too clearly, too vividly. Every breath reminded me of how deeply he had taken me apart… and how completely he had put me back together.
I didn't dare open my eyes yet.
Because if I opened them and he was gone, I wasn't sure I could pretend last night didn't mean something.
"Leah."
His voice.
Low. Rough. Close.
My eyes snapped open.
Edward was sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless, hair a mess of dark strands that fell over his forehead in the most unfairly sexy way. His muscles shifted when he turned his head toward me, and when his eyes met mine, something in my chest tightened.
He was still here.
"Morning," he said softly.
My voice didn't want to work. "You… stayed."
He smirked. "What, you think I run after a night like that?"
I rolled onto my back, my cheeks warm. "Most men would."
"I'm not most men."
No, he absolutely wasn't.
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. The simple touch made my breath catch ridiculous, considering everything we'd done just hours ago, yet somehow even more intimate.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded, though my heart was still beating too fast. "Just… processing."
"I can leave if you want space," he said, even though his thumb was still gently stroking my cheekbone like he had no intention of letting go.
"I didn't say I wanted you to leave."
His eyes darkened slightly. "Good."
Silence filled the room, but not the awkward kind. The warm kind. The kind that came after something intense, something life-changing, something you didn't know how to label yet.
He was the first to break it.
"You looked really beautiful last night."
My breath hitched. "You told me that last night."
"I'm telling you again," he murmured. "Because it's still true."
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself. How did a man I had met mere hours ago make me feel like this?
He shifted closer, the bed dipping under his weight. When I opened my eyes, he was inches from me.
"You're thinking too much," he said gently.
"How do you know?"
"I can see it."
"What exactly do you see?" I asked.
His fingers trailed down my jaw, light and slow. "A woman who's convincing herself last night was just an impulsive decision."
"Wasn't it?" I whispered.
"Maybe," he said, leaning closer. "But that doesn't mean it wasn't real."
My chest tightened again. "Real?"
He held my gaze without flinching. "You felt it. So did I."
I swallowed hard. "Edward…"
"Yes?"
"I don't usually… do this."
He smiled faintly. "I know."
"How?"
"You didn't touch me like someone who does this often," he said softly. "You touched me like someone who needed something honest."
I looked away, my throat tight.
He wasn't wrong.
After everything with Frank… after being betrayed, lied to, belittled… last night with Edward hadn't just been physical.
It had felt like breathing after drowning.
"Leah," he whispered, tilting my chin so I had to face him, "you don't owe me explanations."
"I know."
"And I'm not asking for anything," he added. "Not a relationship, not promises."
Relief washed through me… and disappointment. A strange mix.
"But," he said, brushing his knuckles down my arm, "I'm not done with you."
My breath caught. "You're not?"
He shook his head slowly. "Last night wasn't enough."
Something inside me something I didn't want to acknowledge yet fluttered. "It wasn't?"
"No." His voice lowered, deepened. "I want more."
Heat rushed through me, but this time it wasn't just desire it was something deeper, heavier.
"More of what?" I asked carefully.
He leaned in until our foreheads touched.
"You."
My eyes closed, heart pounding against my ribs. No one had wanted me like that in a long time. Not for what I could do for them. Not for comfort. Not for convenience.
Just… me.
"And you?" he whispered. "Do you want more?"
I hesitated.
Just a second.
But he felt it.
His hand moved to my waist, his thumb pressing lightly into my skin. "You can say no," he said, voice quiet but sincere. "You're allowed to say last night was a one-time thing."
"I don't want it to be," I admitted, barely above a whisper.
His breath hitched subtle, but real.
"Good," he said, sitting back just enough to look at me fully.
He stared at me like he was memorizing the moment. Like he wanted to remember exactly how I looked when I told him he could stay in my life.
Then he said something that sent my heart tumbling into my stomach.
"Then let me take you out today."
I blinked. "Out?"
"A date," he said simply.
I almost laughed. "You want to take me on a date after"
"After the best night I've had in a very long time," he finished.
My cheeks warmed again. "You're really serious?"
"Completely." He ran his thumb across my lips. "Unless you'd rather stay in bed a little longer."
The temptation hit me like a wave.
But I shook my head, smiling despite myself. "A date sounds… nice."
He grinned slow, hot, and dangerous. "Then it's a date."
He stood, stretching in a way that made heat coil low in my stomach again, then looked over his shoulder at me with a smirk.
"And Leah?"
"Mm?"
"I'm not done touching you," he said. "Not even close."
I swallowed hard as he walked toward the bathroom, my pulse racing.
This wasn't supposed to turn into anything.
It was supposed to be revenge. Closure. A distraction.
But now?
Now the morning sun was filtering through my curtains, and instead of shame or regret…
I felt breathless.
And wanting more.
Much, much more.