Convenient hugging

Curtis

Seeing Angelica cry did something to me. I had never talked about Hyacinth—Lyra—whatever her real name was. No one knew the real reason why I kept the necklace except Giancarlo, but that was only because he was there when it happened.

I disliked talking about the past. It brought up memories I was better off not thinking about. I didn’t only tell Angelica about it because I wanted her to understand why mother thought her name was Hyacinth. I felt compelled to, not that I would ever admit it.

After that conversation, we watched a movie—well, I watched her watch a movie—then I ordered room service. She only ate a few bites before she pushed the food aside and said she needed some rest. So I let her sleep, only for her to look up at me with those big, gorgeous eyes and ask me to lay with her.

So here I was, holding a woman in my arms while she drifted to sleep. It had only ever happened once—when she was so restless from her nightmare and the only way to stop her from moving a