The library was supposed to be your “I’ll study for thirty minutes and then go home” kind of place. Instead, it was now your “I stared at the same paragraph for an hour and then face-planted into the table” place.

Your cheek rested against an open textbook. Your handwriting smeared slightly under your face. Your laptop screen dimmed itself after giving up on you.

You didn’t even notice yourself falling asleep.

You only knew you’d been out for a while because you woke up freezing—every library AC vent in the world seemed aimed directly at you.

But when you blinked your eyes open, confused and groggy, the cold was… gone.

Because something heavy and soft and warm was resting across your shoulders.

A jacket.

Not just any jacket.

Leighton’s jacket.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes, looking around the library in confusion.

Leighton Murray sat across from you.

Legs crossed. Head resting in her hand. Watching you.

She smirked the moment you met her eyes.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Your face flushed instantly. “Oh my god—how long was I asleep?”

“Long enough for me to finish a whole essay.” She stretched slightly. “And long enough for you to start snoring.”