Juniper POV
I don’t remember falling asleep in his arms.
One minute I was on the floor with my mother’s words still ringing in my ears, the next I was blinking awake in the dark, wrapped in warmth that didn’t belong to me. My cheek was pressed against something solid and steady. A heartbeat, not mine. Tristan’s. His arm was heavy across my waist, fingers loosely curled against my back like he’d fallen asleep holding me there on purpose. One of my legs had slipped between his at some point. We were tangled together like we’d done this a hundred times before.
I didn’t move.
The guest room was only twenty feet away, but I hadn’t ended up there. I was in Tristan’s bed, wearing one of his old practice shirts that smelled like him, cold air, faint cologne, and something that was just Tristan
