Rosie POV

Something comfortable, a scent so alluring that I nuzzled into the warmth and rubbed my face against it. This was comfortable, so comfortable that I wanted to bury myself deep in it and never leave, and for a long moment I didn’t move as I blinked awake slowly, my brain foggy and my body heavy with sleep.

Then reality crashed in.

I was on top of a very shirtless Jude.

Jude was sprawled on my couch beneath me, heavy and warm and breathing softly against my hair. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist and his fingers were tucked under my sweater, skin to skin, heat radiating from the contact that made my stomach and toes curl. I could feel his heartbeat steady and strong under my cheek, could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

How did we get into this compromising position? I didn’t remember how or when we fell asleep last night, just that when I saw Jude at my door looking lost and hurting and desperate, I felt something deep in me yearning to soothe him, to comfort him, and tell him everything would be okay and I would always be there for him.

We’d sat on the couch and talked, his voice raw and broken while he told me about his father and the pressure and the expectations crushing him, and I’d put my hand on his arm to comfort him. At some point, we must have just drifted off together and now here we were, tangled up on my couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I rested my head more firmly on his bare chest and listened to him breathe, and I could hear this purring sound coming from him, rumbling through his chest like a cat and I found myself latching onto the sound because it was so soothing, so calming. When I tried to slip out carefully not to make it awkward when he woke up, Jude’s arm tightened around me instinctively and pulled me closer and I smiled bashfully, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing. It was like his body refused to let me go even in sleep, like even unconscious he needed me near.

Stop deluding yourself, woman!

But my heart began racing anyway because this was intimate in a way I’d never experienced before, not sexual but safe and protective and grounding. I’d never felt this with Josh, never felt this bone-deep rightness with anyone, and it terrified me how much I wanted to stay exactly where I was.

I lay there a bit longer and studied him while he slept, memorizing the details I never let myself notice before. The dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, so long they were almost unfair. The soft way his lips parted slightly with each breath. The strong line of his jaw was covered in light stubble. The faint crease between his brows that made him look vulnerable and young, not the confident hockey star everyone else saw, not Maya’s grinning brother who seemed to have everything together.

Just Jude.

My Jude.

My cheeks flamed hot and I shook my head at myself because when did I start thinking of him as mine? When did I let him become this important, this essential?

His breathing shifted and I felt him starting to wake, his body tensing slightly beneath me before relaxing again. Then he nuzzled into my hair with a soft groan that made my stomach flip and the warmth pool low in my belly. His arm tightened around me for just a second like he was savoring the moment before his brain caught up.

The moment he realized where he was and what position we were in, he jolted upright so fast I nearly tumbled off the couch and had to grab his shoulder to steady myself, his cheeks flushing bright red.

“Oh my god, Rosie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—I fell asleep and I—you were just sitting there and I must have—god, I practically pinned you down all night, you probably couldn’t move and—” he started apologizing so fast the words tumbled over each other and ran together and I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.

A real, full laugh that came from deep in my chest, the kind I hadn’t heard from myself in years, and it felt so good it almost hurt. Jude froze mid-apology and just stared at me. That purring sound came from his chest again, louder now, and I didn’t know what that vibration was, only that it sent a warm shiver down my spine and made me want to press closer to him even though we’d just separated.

“It’s okay,” I managed between giggles while wiping my eyes. “You were exhausted, and we both just fell asleep. It’s not a big deal.”

“But I—” his face was still so red and he looked adorably flustered, running a hand through his messy hair. “I shouldn’t have just crashed on your couch and then basically trapped you there all night, you probably have class today and—”

“Jude,” I said softly and touched his arm, feeling him go completely still under my fingers as my touch had frozen him. “It’s fine. Really. I didn’t mind.”

The last part came out quieter than I intended and his eyes snapped to mine, searching my face for something.

We sat there for a moment just looking at each other and the morning light coming through my window made his amber eyes look golden and warm, and I had to force myself to look away before I did something stupid like lean in and close the distance between us and kiss him.

“How did you sleep?” he asked quietly, his voice still rough from sleep in a way that made my toes curl.

“Okay,” I lied while my cheeks burned because the truth was I’d slept better than I had since childhood, felt safer than I ever had with him holding me like I was something precious.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said with a small smile that made my heart skip and I felt my face get even hotter.

“Fine, I slept really well,” I admitted while looking at my hands twisted in my lap. “Better than I have in a long time. Happy?”

“Very,” he said and his voice was so warm and soft it made my chest tight and my throat burn with emotions I didn’t want to name.

Silence settled between us but it wasn’t awkward, just comfortable and charged with something I couldn’t name, something that made the air feel thicker.

“Are you hungry?” Jude asked suddenly while standing up and stretching, and I tried very hard not to stare at his bare chest and the way his muscles moved under his skin. “I could make breakfast to make up for invading your couch.”

“You don’t have to—"

“I want to,” he insisted while heading toward my kitchen like he belonged there, like he’d done this a hundred times before. “Let me do this, please? I need to make up for falling asleep on you.”

“You didn’t fall asleep on me, we fell asleep together,” I corrected him and he turned to look at me with this soft expression that made my breath catch.

“Even better,” he said quietly and then disappeared into my kitchen.

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me anymore and settled back on the couch, pulling a blanket around myself even though I wasn’t cold, already missing his warmth beside me.

This was dangerous, letting myself feel this way about him, letting myself get comfortable with his presence and his touch and his kindness. But as I watched him move around my kitchen looking through cabinets for ingredients, that soft smile on his face like making me breakfast was the best thing he could imagine doing, I couldn’t bring myself to care about the danger.

Not when being with him felt this right, this natural, this inevitable.