Lila The penthouse smells of coffee and cedar, sunlight pouring through the blinds filling the room.with light. I wake to Ethan’s lips on my collarbone, his hand splayed across my stomach.The false-positive test is buried in a drawer. "i could stay here forever,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. I roll into him, legs tangling. “ You’re getting sentimental.” He nips my ear. “I’m getting laid. There’s a difference.” I laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Romantic.” “Always.” He kisses me slow, lazy, the kind of kiss that says we have all morning. My hands slide under his T-shirt, mapping the ridges I’ve memorized twice over. We move together until the sheets are twisted and the headboard bangs against the wall. After, we shower. He washes my hair, thumbs massaging my scalp until I melt. I trace the scar on his cheek. “Still mad I gave you this?” I ask. He kisses my wrist, right over the tattoo. “Still proud you fought for me.” Breakfast is on the terrace. Theres French toast dro
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