“Wait, what day is tomorrow? Thursday?”

He laughed, enough of a rumble that it shook the bed. “Sunday.”

“Ugh.” I groaned. “I think I got jet-lagged from all the driving I’ve done this week. Is that a thing that can happen?”

Pan laughed again. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Do you have to get up by a certain time tomorrow?” I asked.

“At four-thirty A.M.,” he said, and I gasped.

“That’s so early! And I’ve been keeping you up so late!”

“I’m used to it.”

My eyes had adjusted to the dark, and I could see his profile as he stared up at the pitched ceiling. I was lying on my side, studying his handsome features. His strong jaw and full lips. His long eyelashes lay on his cheeks, and one of his hands rested on his stomach.

“What?” He looked over, apparently aware that I was watching him.

“I was just thinking about how far away you are.”

He moved one arm up to the pillow and tilted toward me, opening his arms, and I slid across the bed and into them. I pressed my body against him, and as his strong arms enveloped me, I kissed him.

A heat in my belly simmered, the way it did every time we touched, but an oppressive weariness was barreling down on me. Pan noticed right away and he stopped kissing me.

“Is something wrong?” he asked as he brushed a lock of hair out of my face.

“I’m just really tired,” I said with a yawn.

“Let’s just get some sleep then.”

He settled back into the bed, one arm still around me, and I rested my head on his chest. The rhythmic thump of his heart slowly lulled me to sleep.

With his arm around me like that, firm, warm, safe, enveloping, I wondered, is this what it feels like to be loved, really and truly, all the way through? Because that’s how I felt in his arms.

I woke up to the bed moving, with the sunlight lighting up an unfamiliar space. I sat up with a start, and Pan was standing beside the bed, clad only in a pair of jeans.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Seven.”

“You overslept!”

He laughed. “No, I made it to work on time, and I just got back from my shift. I thought I’d crawl back in bed, and I was hoping not to wake you.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “But I should probably get up and go to the apartment. Dagny will start to worry if I’m not back soon. And I need to get my next move sorted out.”

Pan had been in the process of undoing his jeans, but he zipped them back up before sitting on the edge of the bed. “What exactly is your next move?”