Sunlight filtered through unfamiliar curtains, waking me gradually. I blinked, momentarily disoriented until I felt the warm body pressed against my back. Adrian. His arm was draped possessively around my waist, his breath steady against my neck.
Everything from last night came rushing back—our newly established "arrangement," the way he'd pulled me back to his bedroom instead of letting Hudson take me home, the hours we'd spent exploring each other's bodies.
I carefully slipped out from under his arm, trying not to wake him. My clothes were scattered across his massive bedroom floor, casualties of our urgent need last night. I gathered them quietly, checking my phone to see it was already 7:30 AM.
"Shit," I whispered. I had a class at 9, and I needed to get home to shower and change. As I pulled on my underwear, a deep voice froze me in place.
"Where do you think you're going?"