The silk of her shorts whispered against the sheets as Tara shifted for the hundredth time. Beside her, Adi slept like the dead—one arm flung over his head, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in that slow, steady rhythm that usually soothed her. Tonight it only made her restless.

She watched him. The soft light from the window caught the curve of his jaw, the dark sweep of his lashes. He looked younger in sleep. Softer. That handsome face that had made her heart skip since college, still capable of making her breath catch.