Their bodies were still tangled—her legs across his lap, her head tucked beneath his chin—when the heat between them settled into something quieter. Something warmer. A flame that didn’t burn, but glowed.

Cyrus ran his fingers through her hair in slow, idle motions. “What would you like to eat?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the crown of her head.

Camilla let out a breath, her voice faint. “Anything. Surprise me.”

He chuckled lightly and reached for his phone. “I’ll order from Verona’s. You like their risotto, right?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, a teasing smile on her lips. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

“You...