It wasn’t like I was suddenly different, even though I did feel like I’d changed. That a small, hidden part that was just for me would never be the same again. It was a good feeling. It was also a strange feeling, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

It was even more strange, I thought, as I lay in bed and Zayne went to the kitchen, that when I’d gotten up this morning, I’d had no idea that this was going to happen.

Part of me still couldn’t believe it had happened. That we’d done it, and neither of us had been smitten or set on fire. My father hadn’t arrived—thank God—while Zayne and I had lain together afterward, arms and legs tangled, exploring each other in a different, less hurried but even more intense kind of way.

The grin on my face grew as I snuggled down under the comforter. There was a delicious heaviness to my limbs, and the moment I closed my eyes, I felt him, as if he was still with me. Cheeks burning, I rolled over and planted my face in the pillow and stayed that way, my giggle smothered.

After a few minutes, I heard Zayne ask, “What are you doing?”

“Meditating,” I said, repeating what Peanut had claimed earlier.

He laughed. “Interesting technique.”

Lifting my head, I rolled onto my side. Zayne had pulled on a pair of sweats, and that was it, so all I got at first was an eyeful of chest.

And that was nice.

More than nice.

Then I saw what he held in his hands.

I sat up so fast, I almost hurt myself. “You have cookies,” I said. “Cookies and soda.”

“Yeah. I was hungry. Figured you would be, too.”

“I’m always hungry.” I lifted a hand, wiggling my fingers. “But you’re eating cookies and drinking soda?”

“Thought tonight was the perfect night for gluttony.” His eyes had a hooded quality to them as he stared at me. “I’m sorry, what are we talking about? I’m so distracted now.”

Glancing down, I realized the comforter had pooled around my waist. “Oh.” I folded my arm over my chest. “Sorry.” I wiggled my fingers again. “Cookie?”

“I’m not.” Instead of handing over one of those amazing double-chocolate-chunk cookies I’d ordered, he placed them on the nightstand next to the two cans of soda. “Scoot up.”

Doing as he asked, I tugged the blanket up as I wiggled forward. The bed dipped behind me as Zayne settled in, propped against the headboard. I started to turn, but he snagged an arm around my waist and tugged me back between his legs. My bare back pressed to his chest, and as he reached for the cookies, I was struck by how infinitely more intimate this was than anything else we’d shared.