“You should try to go to sleep,” he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the TV. “It’ll help in the morning.”

I relaxed against him, faster than I thought possible. Snuggling closer, I rested my head against his chest. “You’re not leaving?”

“Nope.”

“At all?” I closed my eyes.

His chin grazed the top of my head and then his lips brushed across my forehead. A sigh leaked out from between my lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, sweetheart. I promise.”

#

It took a couple of moments to realize the blinding light was from the sun shining through my living room window and that I was still in Cam’s lap.  My head was against his shoulder and his chin was resting atop mine. His arms were secured around me like he thought I’d wake up and run off.

In my chest, my heart got a little workout.

Memories from last night were a little disjointed at first, but when they started to make sense, I alternated between being thrilled, embarrassed, shocked, and then thrilled again.

Cam was still here and last night he’d said that he wanted me, that we would be together, even after he knew what I had done to myself and after I’d been a total bitch to him.

I almost couldn’t believe it. Maybe I was dreaming, because I didn’t feel like I deserved this.

Placing my hand on his chest, I felt his heart beat steady and strong under my palm. His skin was bare, warm, and real. I needed to see his face to fully believe that this was happening.  I shifted in his lap.

Cam groaned a deep, rich sound.

Eyes going wide, I stilled. Holy moley, I could feel his arousal against my hip. His arms tightened around my waist and I felt his heart kick around the same time mine did.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice thick and gruff. “It’s morning and you’re sitting on me. That’s a combination meant to bring any man down.”

Warmth swamped my cheeks, but heat raced through my veins and I was reminded of how he felt when he had rocked against me before. Not the best thought to be having right now. His grip on my waist loosened and his hand dropped to my hip. Through the thin shirt—his shirt—my skin tingled.

Okay. Maybe it was the perfect thought to be having right now.

“Do you want me to get off you?” I asked.

“Hell no.” His other hand traveled up my back, his fingers tangling in the ends of my hair.  “Absolutely fucking not.”

My lips cracked a grin. “Okay.”

“Finally, I think we’re actually agreeing on something.”