I was in bed with Tristan. My brain lit imaginary fireworks in celebration of the occasion.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," the rich, deep voice that had purred into my ear last night said. He handed me a cup of coffee over the bed covers, and then maneuvered his way over to rest his back against the headboard just a foot away from me. "We need to get going in an hour to make it in time."

I kicked the sheets off my legs, sat up, and smiled in his direction before sipping the coffee he'd handed me. It was just the way I liked it with four sugars and so much cream it made the normally dark color look milky. Glancing back and forth between my mug and the handsome face just to my right, my brain tried to cope and understand with what had happened just a few hours before. The sequence almost seemed dreamlike. Technically, it was something out of my dreams because it had seemed that we would never get to that point.

Plus, who gets to wake up with this type of perfection between their legs in real life?

I couldn't even get started trying to replay the fact that he didn't ask for me to be his, but rather told me. Sweet baby Jesus, I had never been one for liking possessiveness but the idea of being Tristan's was just too fucking perfect. I would've settled for a simple, "I think we should date each other exclusively." The dreamy smile on my face must have given me away because I heard him snort. "What are you thinking?" he asked with a tinge of humor in his voice.

For a moment I debated whether or not to be coy and pretend like I wasn't thinking about where his fingers had been last night, but screw it. "Last night," I admitted with a waggle of my eyebrows.

The smile that spread across his face was the most brilliant thing I'd ever seen in my life. Solar panels be damned, Tristan's smile could provide enough electricity to support a small town. "Which part specifically?"

I rolled my eyes at his question and sipped my coffee. "The entire time, doofus."

"I had a lot of fun last night," he chuckled, blushing across his high cheekbones. "Would it be needy of me to say that I'm glad that you know how I feel about you?" He looked up at me through those long, dark eyelashes. "What I want from you?"

There's no doubt in my mind that my mouth dropped open at least a fraction of an inch then, but I hoped that I recovered quickly enough to not look like a fool. "No, that's not needy at all," I said in a breathless voice. I felt like my heart was in my throat. "I like knowing that you want me in your life as more than just your friend. I had no idea, you know? Until you kissed me last week, I didn't have a solid clue that you looked at me as more than just your buddy Kat."

"I don't think I had a clue for a while that I saw you as more than just my buddy. It was like I woke up one day and realized it," he sighed out the words.

I could appreciate his honesty more than I could ever explain because it made sense to me. He had been so hot and cold with me for weeks that his struggles seemed logical. Part of me liked the fact that he grew into his feelings instead of just admiring some superficial aspect of my outer shell. He liked me for me and that just felt right.

"I've always liked you," I blurted out. Shit.

His megawatt smile brightened the room again at my response. "You're just—," he sighed, clearly struggling for words. His eyes were wide and bright as he thought about what he was trying to say.

"Amazing?" I offered with a laugh.

Tristan rolled his eyes then and grinned. "That's not the route I was going but it'll work too." He set his cup down on the side table and crawled over to me. The rippling of his muscles seduced my eyesight for the first time that morning. Mother fuck. All that was mine? He was mine? The clean and distinct curves of muscle that shaped his entire upper body flexed deliciously so close to me, I had to reign in my inner slut to keep from tracing all that flesh with my tongue. "Goldie?"