Stretching my legs, I froze when I felt another set of legs against mine.

Last night.

I’d fallen asleep on the couch with Zayne. I hadn’t meant to do that. Had he fallen asleep before me? Or had I passed out plastered against him like I was at this moment? I’d hugged him and he’d thanked me and then... Neither of us had said anything after that.

God, I hoped I hadn’t passed out and trapped him against the back of the couch like a—

The arm around me tightened, and Zayne made a deep rumbling sound that I felt all the way to the tips of my toes.

My eyes flew open, and I found myself staring at a chest covered by a white shirt. That was just about when I realized my cheek was not on a pillow but on rather firm biceps.

Oh my.

There were few things in life stranger than unexpectedly waking up in the arms of someone. Or more wonderful than when it was in the arms of someone like Z—

Stop.

Cutting off those thoughts, I focused on what to do from this point. Slowly, I tilted my head back and lifted my gaze.

Zayne was still asleep.

Thick lashes fanned his cheeks and his lips were slightly parted. He looked so...relaxed. Vulnerable, even. My gaze roamed his face. I should probably stop staring at him while he slept, because that was more than just notably creepy, but it was so rare I was this close to him and had such an unobstructed view.

He had a freckle. Three of them, actually, under his right eye. They were faint, but I could... I could see them, and they formed a little triangle. Did he have others? I scanned his face. I didn’t see more, but there was a faint shadow along his jaw and chin. I’d never seen him with facial hair, and I wondered what he’d look like if he let it grow.

Probably hotter. Sounded impossible, considering he was beautiful enough that it bordered on obscene.

For a moment, I did something so stupid and I let myself...dream.

I closed my eyes, imagining what it would be like if I woke up in his arms and he was mine and I was his. I’d kiss him and then snuggle closer, and if that didn’t wake him, I would do something annoying to get him to wake up. My imagination filled in what would come next. Zayne, because of who he was, wouldn’t be annoyed that I’d stolen minutes or even hours of his sleep. He’d laugh and then give me that sleepy, sexy smile of his. Then he’d roll me under him and kiss me. And of course, in my perfect fantasy, there’d be no such thing as morning breath. So that kiss would be deep and long, a languid caress that would lead to more kissing. I pressed my lips together, squirming as my skin heated. Zayne’s shirt would come off, so would mine and then there’d be nothing—

The arm around me curled again, and suddenly we were chest to chest, hip to hip. My eyes popped open and I looked up at Zayne. He was still asleep, but his body—well, a certain part of him was definitely awake.

Oh, goodness.

Could he pick up on what I was feeling even though he was asleep? If so, that would be really, just completely, annoying.

Time for me to get up. Definitely well past time, because if I didn’t, things were going to get awkward and I was already at peak awkward, so I needed to avoid that. I lifted my gaze, drawing in a breath.

Pale blue eyes met mine.

Too late.

“Morning,” I mumbled.

Those lashes swept down and then back up. “Morning.”

My pulse was thrumming. His arm was still around me, more relaxed, but there. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here.”

“I didn’t mind.” Those eyes were half-open now, and the fingers along my back were moving up and down in short, slow strokes.

“Really?”

“Not at all. It was nice.”

My heart was now pitter-pattering like a happy little fool. “I liked it, too. I think I got the best sleep I’ve had in days.”

“Same.” He turned his head, yawning like a lion. “It’s good having a sleeping buddy.”

Sleeping buddy? Like a stuffed animal?

That tripped the pitter-patter. My heart fell on its stupid face, and a part of me was happy. Because it should know better.

Why was I thinking of my heart as something outside me that I had no control over?

I needed help.

I also needed to get up. “I’m thirsty,” I announced, because why not?

Pulling back, I rolled onto my side just as Zayne lifted his arm and started to sit up. He shifted, and the sudden change of weight on the cushion sent me tumbling into him. Zayne froze as our bodies lined up in all the very interesting parts that emphasized the vast difference between the soft and hard areas.

My entire face flushed as I attempted to roll away from him. My hip brushed a very sensitive area. “I’ll just—” I jerked and, somehow, that just made it worse, because Zayne groaned “—get up and—”

“Can you just stop moving for a second?” Zayne’s hand landed on my hip, his voice raspy. “Just be still. Okay?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing under my breath, and did as he suggested. I took a breath and then rocketed to my feet without rubbing myself all over him like an alley cat on ecstasy. Face burning, I stepped away from the couch.

“Sorry about that,” Zayne muttered. “Especially if it made you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s okay.” Uncomfortable was not a word I’d use. At least not in the way he was insinuating. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was sitting up, and I kept my gaze north of his shoulders. “I mean, it’s no big deal. I know how guys get in the morning.”

Zayne looked at me, brows raised as his lips twitched. “You do?”

“Of course.” I forced a laugh. “You don’t need to be a part of the dick brigade to know that.”

“Dick brigade?” He bit down on his lower lip. “All right then.”

Feeling like I could’ve kept that to myself, I smiled tightly and crossed my arms. “I’ll get changed and we can get started on training.” I was proud of how steady and unaffected my voice sounded. “Unless you want to eat something first?”

Zayne picked up his phone, swearing under his breath. “I have to hop in the shower and get out of here in, like, thirty minutes or I’m going to be late.”

“Late...?” I trailed off.

“I told you yesterday I have some things to take care of today.” He rose and started around the couch, his movements somewhat stiff. “Remember?”

Now that he mentioned it, I did. “I forgot. What do you have to do?”

“Just a few things.” He headed for the bedroom, keeping his back to me. “It’ll probably take a couple of hours, but I should be back in time for us to work in some training.”

My arms unfolded slowly. Why was he being so vague? I took a step forward as I opened my mouth, but snapped it shut as I remembered what Zayne had said last night.

There’s a lot you don’t know.

If Zayne wanted me to know, he’d tell me, and if he didn’t, then I needed to engage in a little mind your own business.

I hated minding my own business.

“But what are you—” I heard the bathroom door click shut. “Okay. I’ll just wait out here while you take your ten-year-long shower and then I’ll just wait here all afternoon until you’re done doing whatever it is that you’re doing.”

There was no response.

Obviously.

I let my head fall back and groaned, “Ugh.”

“Yeah.”

Squeaking, I whipped around and saw Peanut by the kitchen island. He nodded.

“You guys are as awkward as getting caught picking your nose. You should work on that.”

I sighed. “Thanks for the advice I didn’t ask for.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave me a thumbs-up with half his arm transparent. “And by the way—a dude in the shower for that long, after waking up in the morning? What do you think he’s doing? Washing his hair twice and deep conditioning with Herbal Essences? Uh, no.”

“I...” My eyes widened. “Oh. Oh.”

“Let him live his best life.” Peanut vanished.

My gaze flew to the bedroom, and my imagination ran wiiild for about 10.3 seconds. Then, because there was nothing else to do, I walked to the couch and face-planted it.

* * *

“‘When you was young, you never needed anyone,’” Peanut sang from somewhere in the apartment.

I needed to do laundry. I guessed I could do that this afternoon since I was—

“‘All by yourself.’” Peanut came through the bedroom wall and continued singing about me—or someone—being alone and insecure and unable to see love.

I blinked slowly. “You’re a jerk.”

“‘But you’re all by yourself!’” he sang back to me, disappearing through the wall.

I’d been all by myself since Zayne left about thirty minutes ago, off to do stuff, and I had no idea what to do with my afternoon. It was the first free time I’d had since I’d come here.

Twisting my hair into a topknot, I turned toward the open bedroom door. “Hey, Peanut, you still here?”

“Yeah,” he called back. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“That spirit last night—did he say anything to you?”

“Besides referring to me as Casper?” Peanut blinked into existence in the doorway. “No. He was just poking around the apartment like he belonged here.”

“That’s weird.” I glanced at the messy bed, frowning. “I guess he saw me outside and followed me here.”

“Then why did he freak out when he realized you could see him?”

That was a good question, but even if ghosts and spirits could sense I could communicate with them, they were often surprised when I confirmed it. When ghosts and spirits experienced acute emotion, they tended to lose their connection with the consciousness that allowed them to take shape and be seen.

Well, there was nothing I could do now about last night’s strange visitation. Instead, I checked the washer, which was stacked above the dryer in one of the linen closets. After switching my clothes to dry, I looked around the room, my gaze settling on the tinted windows.