#Chapter30
I walk out of his room after done with my bathroom routine. I wear his sweatshirt that I take from his closet. It smells like him—manly, musk, and a hint of citrus.
I reach Pyke’s living room and appreciate the wood carved wall. My brows furrow when I notice a foot on the couch’s arm. Did he sleep here all night?
I walk slowly to the sleeping Pyke, sprawling on his couch. Half of the sheet is draped around his thigh and half of it is on the floor. His slight bulging boxers look magnificent in the morning.
Perv! I mentally hit myself.
I walk closer, kneel in front of him, and stare at his peaceful face, now with a five o’clock shadow. I wipe strands of hair away from his forehead. His brows furrow, lips pout, then he sighs.
A smile spread across my lips.
/"You look really cute sleeping,/" I mutter, rubbing the bruise in his jaw with my thumb. The color starts to fade.
/"Does this still hurt?/" I murmur.
