Lyla's breath hitched as Ethan's arms tightened around her waist. Her body tensed for a brief second before she exhaled, sinking against his warmth.
"Ethan…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
His grip loosened just enough for her to turn around in his hold. Her face was still flushed, her lips slightly parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words.
Ethan met her gaze, searching. There was something in her expression, hesitation, maybe even longing, but before he could figure it out, she suddenly pushed lightly against his chest.
"Breakfast," she mumbled, looking away.
A small chuckle escaped him as he stepped back, letting her go. "Alright, alright. But first—"
He reached for the nightstand and picked up a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
Lyla blinked, confused. "What are you—"
