Windsor's POV
My skull felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, then decided to light the remains on fire for good measure.
Everything was hazy. My thoughts moved like thick honey, sluggish and disoriented. I couldn't even piece together how I'd ended up unconscious.
Then the memories hit me like a freight train.
The dream. Except it wasn't a dream at all.
I had actually told Zion that I missed his body. Out loud. With witnesses.
My stomach dropped to somewhere around my ankles. This was beyond mortifying. This was a complete disaster.
I pressed my palms against my burning cheeks, trying to convince myself it was just some alcohol-induced hallucination. Maybe I could still salvage what was left of my dignity.
A low yawn escaped me as I shifted in bed, and that's when I saw him.
Zion stood on the balcony, completely shirtless, bathed in golden morning light that showed every ridge of muscle perfectly defined.
