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But I couldn’t keep avoiding it, especially since I’d been staring at his chest for what felt like a really long time.

I slowly lifted my stare.

And then our eyes connected.

The deepest green gazed back at me.

I wasn’t sure I had even noticed his eye color before.

Now, it was all I saw.

It was so different than Dylan’s blue.

So was his facial hair.

Dylan shaved every morning.

Smith had at least four days of scruff.

Dylan’s hair was perfect when he got up.

Smith’s was ruffled in a way that looked like fingers had been pulling it.

I guessed they had.

Oh God.

“Good morning,” I replied, bringing the blanket up to my chin.

He was on his side, facing me.

Watching.

“You’re not a morning person, are you?”

I thought about his question.

I actually considered myself as one.

But I certainly wasn’t right now.

“Morning-ish,” I said from behind the blanket.

“Does that mean you need coffee first?”

I had no idea what that meant.

But I knew I needed more than two seconds to process everything that was