I roll onto my side and drape an arm over his chest like I’ve done it a million times before. His skinsmells like the night—dewy and lush. “Where were you?”
There’s a strange note to his voice. Something that wasn’t there when I fell asleep, but I’m drowsyand comfortable and it’s late. I let it go for now.
“I’m not tired,” he says. But he sounds dead exhausted. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I was just thinking about when things switched,” I murmur, my eyes still closed.
I feel the subtle shifts in his breathing as he responds, the way his chest rises and falls. It’s a steadything. I squeeze him tighter.
“Yeah. Like, when things between us switched. When did we go from… whatever we were before…to this?”
It’s embarrassing to have to define it, but Nikolai might be as new at this relationsh
