Eloise woke the next morning to warmth pressed against her side. Soft breathing brushed her shoulder, a lazy puff of air that tickled her skin. When she blinked her eyes open, she was staring at the familiar, chaotic expanse of Jayla's bedding, and Jayla's arm was draped heavily over her waist like a protective blanket.
Eloise stared for a moment, the comforting weight easing some of the tension she'd carried for days. Then she chuckled under her breath.
Jayla slept exactly like she fought—dramatically, messily, and with full body commitment. One knee was thrown aggressively over Eloise's thigh, half of the single blanket was strangled beneath her torso, and her gorgeous curly hair sprawled in every direction like a lion's mane seeking sunlight.
