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Alight touch skims my shoulder. Slow. Almost hesitant. I make a noise and burrow deeper into the couch.

“Laney.” The hushed voice is low enough to slip into my dream before I realize it’s real.

I blink. Once. Then twice. Waking up slowly to messy golden hair. Ocean blue eyes. A dark suit, tie loosened at his throat.

Bishop.

He’s crouched beside the sectional, pulling the fuzzy throw blanket higher over me.

For one disorienting second, I stare at him, frozen between sleep and awake. A place where I can allow myself to want him, close enough to dreams that maybe I can have him.

Everything comes rushing back at once. Boston. The game. The flight. He’s him, and I’m … well, me.

“Hi,” I whisper.

His mouth curves, one dimple appearing in his cheek. “Hi.”

His voice is rougher than usual. Tired.

“You’re home.”

“I am.”

And just like that, I’m awake. Completely, ridiculously awake. Ten seconds ago, I could barely open my eyes.

Now Bishop is inches from me, smelling like cold October air, clean soap from the shower he took at the arena, and a scent that is distinctly him, beneath it.

My pulse kicks up a notch at the sudden awareness.

He reaches toward me. For one insane second, I think he’s going to touch my face.

Instead, he plucks the book off my chest. My stomach drops for an entirely different reason.

“No.”

I sit up. Too late. Bishop straightens and turns the cover toward himself, one eyebrow lifting.

“Really, Baby Becks?”

“Give me that.”

Instead, he stands over me, inspecting my book.

“Hockey romance?” He teases, but I don’t miss the surprise in his voice.

“It’s fiction.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I reach for it, but he moves it away, out of my reach. The height difference makes it impossible for me to grab even if I were to stand.

“Bishop.”

“What?” His expression is all innocence, but the dimple cutting into his cheek ruins the effect. “I’m suddenly interested in what was so good about this hockey book that you’re up past your bedtime on a work night, Baby Becks.”

It wasn’t the book, you jerk.

“Give me the book. You don’t even read.”