FIA
The knock at the door pulled us apart. I sat up slowly, scrubbing my face with the heels of my palms. My cheeks were hot and tight from crying. Cian pressed a kiss to my temple before sliding off the bed, padding barefoot across the room to answer.
I watched him move. My breath caught as his shirt stretched across his back when he reached for the door handle. The familiar sight sliced through me, causing my chest to tighten and my breath to become shallow with sudden longing.
He exchanged quiet words with the server, then wheeled in a cart laden with covered dishes. The metal domes concealed whatever the kitchen had prepared, but the scents escaped anyway. Rich butter. Roasted meat. Something herbed and earthy that should have made my stomach growl.
But the food barely registered. Hunger twisted into something sharper, and my nerves hummed as my attention snagged on Cian; every detail of him pressed urgently against my mind.
