38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Anna

I 'm not sure exactly when Toby fell into my bed along with me, or why I never threw a fit about it all those weeks ago, but tonight is no different than it has been.

He stayed awake to mess around with his guitar while I retired some time ago, alone, yet am awakened by the man climbing into bed with me.

He doesn't touch me, like most nights. Doesn't scoot close or even steal the covers.

Pretending I'm still passed out, just like I do every night he comes in, I resist my protesting huff when a chill flutters beneath the covers.

He was right, it's definitely colder in here tonight.

It's quickly replaced when his body heat takes over, the radiator of a man sealing the heatwaves in with us.

"Mama," he whispers so quietly into the night, it almost sounds like a plea.

Biting my lip, I wait.

It's so quiet, save for the pulse beating in my ears, that I hear his long exhale and his growled words. "Fuck it."

The duvet rustles with his movement, the mattress dipping moments before I feel his arm dive between my legs and hook around the one I keep bent as I sleep. I gasp when his hand flattens over my butt, and he hauls me into his bare chest, his leg wedging between mine. I release that groan when I instinctively drape my thigh over his waist, sinking more into his body.

He lets loose a satisfied hum when my body finally touches his from chest to knee, his hand diving beneath my sleep shirt to flatten against my lower back where his fingertips feather over my skin.

"Perfect," he mumbles into my hair, the arm he has beneath me tightening its curl around me, holding me as close as possible. "So fucking perfect, Mama."

I huff out some kind of agreement and settle into him, my nose buried in his neck.

Sleep threatens to claim me, and while I try my best to fight it, to keep enough consciousness that I can remember this in the morning, I feel myself slipping into the depths of unconsciousness.

" God, I think you broke me, Anna ."