Sage
Sunlight sliced through the curtains like a blade, hitting my face and dragging me awake. I groaned softly, squeezing my eyes tighter against the brightness. My body felt heavy, pleasantly sore from the night before, every muscle reminding me of her—of us.
I reached out blindly, my hand sliding across the sheets in search of her warmth, her soft curves, and the steady rise and fall of her breathing against me. Nothing.
My fingers kept moving, sweeping wider, expecting to find her curled against my side like always. But it was empty and cold.
My heart lurched.
I gasped, eyes snapping open.
The bed beside me was smooth, untouched. No indent. No warmth. No Eve.
“Eve!”
Her name ripped out of me, loud and raw, bouncing off the walls.
“I’m here,” came her quiet voice.
I whipped my
