The first thing Ryan noticed was the light — pale and thin, the kind that comes hours before a house is meant to be awake. The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his own bed.Chloe lay beside him, asleep, the sheet pooled at her waist. He was naked. She was naked. For a long moment he didn't move, as if stillness could undo it.Then it hit him all at once, and he sat up so fast the room seemed to tilt.He found his jeans crumpled by the foot of the bed and pulled them on with shaking hands, careful not to wake her, careful not to look at her, careful — too late for careful. He slipped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him with a softness that felt almost like an apology.In his own room he stood in the middle of the floor, hands pressed to his face."What have I done," he said, quietly at first, then louder, until it wasn't really a question anymore, just a sound tearing out of him. "What have I *done*—"He found the bottle of wine on the dresser, uncorked alrea
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