Thorne
When I woke up, the world felt wrong. My head was heavy, my mouth dry, and my limbs sluggish like I'd been drinking all night—which I had. But it wasn't the dull ache behind my eyes that made my stomach knot. It was the warmth. The weight. The fact that someone was lying against me, their skin pressed to mine.
I blinked hard, forcing my vision to clear. And then I froze.
Josie.
Her soft hair brushed against my chest, her legs tangled with mine, her breathing steady in the early morning light that slipped through the cracks of the cottage window. For a moment, my heart stopped. My body went rigid, and I did the only thing my scrambled brain thought to do—I pushed her back, gently but with enough force to create space between us.
Her sleepy eyes fluttered open. Confusion clouded them at first, then clarity, then something sharp—hurt.
"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered, her voice raw from sleep.
