Chapter 5

Reagan's POV

I stared at the ceiling, her soft breathing filling the room. A gentle reminder of her presence. I turned to look at her, curled up on the couch. How could she sleep so peacefully on that small, uncomfortable piece of furniture? The couch seemed to barely contain her, yet she looked serene as if it were the most comfortable place in the world.

Whatever.

I laid back down, pulled the blanket up to my chest, and shut my eyes, willing myself to sleep. The events of the day replayed in my mind, each moment making it harder to find rest.

Damn it.

My eyes snapped open, staring at the dark ceiling once more.

Earlier

I watched as she looked away from my gaze, giving me space as if she were afraid I might contaminate her. I pulled off my shirt, feeling her eyes on me. She tried to look away, but her gaze slowly ran over my exposed chest, lingering on the large, jagged scar on my chest.

"Are you done staring?" I asked with a smirk, breaking the tense silence.

She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing despite her best efforts to hide it.

Why did she always have to be so cute?

Walking over to the bed, I paused and turned to look at her. "Are you not coming to bed?"

She turned, looking at me with so much spite. "You must think I'm crazy to stay in the same bed with you."

I couldn't help but smirk. "We're married. We can lie on the same bed."

"Married?" She scoffed, the word dripping with sarcasm. "Well, just for tonight," she muttered under her breath.

I watched as she walked over to the bed, her movements deliberate. She picked up a pillow and, with a determined look, walked over to the couch. "You can sleep on the bed. I'll take the couch," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fine," I replied, lying on the bed. If she wanted the couch, then she could have it.

I heard her light scoff as she walked into the bathroom, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet room. When she returned there was a brief pause, and I could have sworn I felt her gaze lingering on my back, a hesitant, almost palpable weight. After a moment, the gentle rustle of her clothes reached my ears, the soft fabric brushing against her skin as she undressed.

A smile formed on my lips as the realization dawned on me: she was waiting to see if I had fallen asleep before changing.

The temptation to get up and walk over to her, to touch her and show her what it really means to be pleased, was almost overwhelming. I could picture her startled expression, the way her skin would flush under my touch. My mind wandered, imagining the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the softness of her skin.

With a deep breath, I forced my eyes shut, trying to get the thoughts of her naked body out of my mind.

                                                                               ****

I got up from my bed and walked over to where she lay, sleeping so peacefully, her body curled up in the small space of the couch. She looked so stubborn, clinging to her pride even in her sleep.

I couldn't help but stare at her face, taking in every delicate detail. Her long brown hair cascaded down her body, with some strands lightly resting on her face from her small movements on the couch. Her long lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks, and her soft breaths came out in gentle, rhythmic sighs. I lingered on her lips, desiring to capture them with mine, wondering how they would feel against my own.

My eyes roamed over every part of her face, taking in the delicate curve of her jaw, the soft blush of her cheeks, and the slight furrow of her brow that seemed to soften as she slept. I remembered the moment I saw her in the hall, how for a brief instant, it felt like everything around me vanished, and it was just her standing there. She was so beautiful that it felt like she was taking my breath away. I had thought that seeing her again would be different, that maybe the intensity of my feelings would have dulled. But they hadn't. She still had the same impact on me, just as powerful as the first day I saw her.

With a frustrating sigh, I ran my hand through my hair, trying to dispel the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me. I couldn't let these feelings get in my way. I had to stay focused, to keep my resolve.

Gently, I lifted her, feeling the warmth of her body against my arms as I placed her more comfortably on the couch. I tucked her in with the blanket, making sure she was snug and warm. She shifted slightly, murmuring something incomprehensible, but remained asleep.

Things had to remain this way. She had to continue hating me. It was the only way for my plan to work.