I sighed again. He was right; he did have self-control. If he could do this, surely I could too. I closed my eyes and waited for exhaustion to take over.
Fortunately, it didn't waste any time; staying up late will do that to you. Maybe that was the real key to sleeping chastely.
I woke up in his arms hours later, hearing the ever-sofaint sounds of bad seventies music drifting through the wall. One of my neighbors felt the need to do aerobics to the Bee Gees every day around lunchtime. Certifiable insanity.
Wait. Lunchtime?
I sat bolt upright, panic jolting me into full consciousness as I assessed the situation.
My bed. Gabriel sprawled beside me. The full roar of traffic outside. Clear, winter sunlight pouring through the window—a lot of sunlight.
Fearing the worst, I looked at the nearest clock. It was 12:03.
