Jake stormed into his room, Rome surging close to the surface. His fingers flexed, jaw tight, teeth grinding. The suit he had worn for meetings felt suffocating now. He yanked the tie and threw it onto the floor, the jacket following a moment later in a frustrated arc towards the corner.
He was halfway to the bathroom when he froze.
Lyra was sitting in the center of his bed, her long hair damp from the shower, wearing only one of his shirts. Her legs were drawn to her chest, her chin resting on her knees, as she watched him with wide eyes. She looked so vulnerable.
The anger drained from him in an instant.
In three strides, he was at the bed. He didn’t hesitate. He crawled up beside her and pulled her tightly against his chest.
She didn’t resist. She melted into him with a breathless
