The door to Walker’s bedroom is wide open. As I approach, I try to think of what I’ll say when I wake him. But when I arrive at the threshold, I find him awake, sitting on the windowsill, gazing out at the night sky. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, and his dark hair is wild, as if he’d been tossing and turning before he got up.
I enter without announcing my presence, but a creaky floorboard does it for me. Walker turns his head slowly to watch me approach. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me in his bedroom.
I stand next to him and look out the window to see what he’s gazing at. The sky is pitch black and studded with twinkling stars of various sizes and colors. It’s not a city night sky, muted by light pollution. It’s a brilliant, shimmering cloak wrapped around the world, beckoning us to embrace the night.
When I turn away from the window, Walker is staring at me, a new quiet confidence in his eyes. The moonlight paints silvery streaks over his cheekbones, collarbone, and pectoral muscles. He looks beautiful enough to paint.
Taking a cue from the look in his eyes, I turn toward him to let him see all of me. His gaze skims over every inch of my body, stopping for a while on my breasts. Taking a step forward, I take his hand in mine and hold it for a moment. When his eyes look up to meet mine, I lay his hand on my chest, so he can feel my heartbeat.
The corners of his mouth turn up at the sensation of my pulse pounding against his fingertips. “You are real.”
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