I woke as Ian tried to sneak out of bed. And that was not happening. He was warm. I was sleepy. No way. I rolled over, doing my best impression of a needy, grabby octopus. Would it be easier to keep him in bed if I had eight limbs and those cool little suction things? Probably, but I managed anyway, wrapping my hands around one big bicep and flinging a leg over his.
