Lucas was honestly surprised he slept at all.
Once Celia had drifted off in his arms, her face tucked into the crook of his neck, her breath warm against the still-tender mark, he had lain awake staring at the ceiling. His mind had spun in circles, running through every possibility, every terrible outcome, every way this could fall apart.
But at some point exhaustion must have won. When he woke, the afternoon sun was streaming through Darcy’s thin curtains. Celia was curled against his side, her fingertips resting on his ribs, her breathing soft and even.
Careful not to wake her, he slipped out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. After splashing water on his face, he moved into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with a glass of water, letting the quiet settle around him.
H
