Soft golden rays of early morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting gentle patterns across the room. The distant patter of rain whispered against the windows, mingling with the scent of damp earth and linen as it slowly pulled you from sleep.

Your eyelids flutter open, and your vision gradually adjusts to the muted light. Warmth surrounds you — not just from the blankets, but from the solid, familiar presence beside you. Your gaze drifts down to the tanned, muscular arms looped protectively around your waist, one hand splayed possessively across your hip.

Garrett’s skin glows with a sun-kissed bronze, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Strands of his dark brown hair fall over his forehead in a mess of sleep-tousled waves. Even now, there’s something magnetic about him — something that keeps your eyes lingering longer than you mean to.

Carefully, you shift your weight and begin to slide from beneath the covers, hoping not to disturb him. You move slowly, mindful of each creak of the mattress. But just as your foot grazes the floor, a strong hand clamps around your thigh.

In one swift motion, he pulls you back into the warmth of the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist like a tether. A sleepy, mischievous grin curves his lips as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble grazing your skin.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” he mumbles, voice low and thick with sleep, his breath warm against your neck.