Kate was already awake when Tate opened his eyes.

She had one leg thrown over his and her hand on his stomach, the same way she always slept. Morning light came through the blinds in thin lines. His shoulder still ached from Saturday. The bite on his hip ached more.

He shifted. Her hand slid lower without meaning to. He caught her wrist before it could go farther.

“Morning,” she said, voice rough with sleep.

“Hey.”

She pushed up on one elbow and kissed the corner of his mouth. He turned just enough that she got mostly cheek. She noticed. He felt her notice. She didn’t say anything about it....