#Chapter 259: Rome Wasn’t Built in a Day

Audrey I woke to the feeling of warm sunlight washing across my cheek. My body ached pleasantly, and with it came my memories from last night—Edwin’s hands on my skin, the soft murmur of his voice as he whispered my name, the warmth of his breath against my neck. We had made love practically all night; we hadn’t even gone to sleep until the first rays of dawn broke across the horizon. Even now, I could still feel the lingering heat of him in the sheets beside me, even though his spot was already empty. The scent of coffee and bacon wafted in from the kitchen, making my stomach growl. I stretched languidly for a moment before tossing the blankets aside and swinging my legs over the side of the bed, climbing to my feet with a yawn. I found one of Edwin’s t-shirts discarded next to the bed, and pulled it on. It still smelled like his cologne mixed with the scent of the lakewater, and I paused for a moment to inhale it before I slipped out of the bedroom.