He toys with my hair, smoothing it and wrapping strands of it around his fingers. “Sleepy,” I say as though dead. “Am I keeping you awake? I just wanted to hold you.” “You should sleep,” I murmur. Trey grunts like I said something ludicrous. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this moment, do you? I don’t plan to miss any of it to sleep.” “You’ve been dreaming about this?” My eyebrow arches. “When I said you’re my every thought, I meant it.” “When did you first begin dreaming about it?” I ask, warming to the subject. “After I first saw you. My daydreams of you were nightmares,” he
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