Puck Me Right There (PMR #2)

Julia

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The morning light spills through the half-open blinds, painting stripes across the bed in warm gold. I blink slowly, still tangled in the sheets, still wrapped in the remnants of everything that happened last night.

Zane is lying on his side, one arm under the pillow, the other draped loosely around my waist like he never wants to let go.

His eyes are closed, lashes resting against his cheeks. Peaceful. Softer than I've ever seen him.

God, he's beautiful like this.

My chest tightens at the thought. Last night wasn't just sex—it was everything. It was forgiveness, and trust, and healing. It was a boy handing me something fragile and sacred and saying here, take care of this.

I reach out and gently brush his messy hair back from his forehead. He stirs, brows twitching just a little before his eyes crack open.

He blinks up at me, voice hoarse. "You're staring."

I smile. "Yeah. I am."

A small smirk plays on his lips before he pulls me closer, tucking my body against his. We stay like that for a moment, quiet and still, heartbeats syncing.

Then I murmur, "I just want to be really clear about something."

He lifts an eyebrow.

"I'm still your girlfriend, right? That wasn't just like... a one-time 'congratulations you lost your virginity' kind of thing?"

Zane lets out a low breath, the kind that sounds almost like a laugh but is too soft, too real. He shifts so we're face to face, his fingers tracing lightly along my waist beneath the sheet.

"Julia," he says, voice gravelly and deep, "you've been mine since the day I started falling for you. You didn't need last night to make it official."

My heart squeezes.

He tilts his head slightly, looking me dead in the eye. "You're my girlfriend. Of course you are. I don't want anyone else."

Something warm rushes through me—relief, love, all of it tangled together.

I grin, wide and stupid. "Good. Because you're kind of stuck with me now."

He smirks. "I think I can live with that."

We fall into silence again, but it's not awkward. It's content. His thumb brushes slow circles into my hip and I bury my face into his chest, breathing him in.

He smells like his hoodie, like soap and warmth and something that feels like home.

Last night changed everything.

But this morning? This morning feels like everything.

And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Zane's fingers are still tracing circles on my skin when I tilt my head up and smile at him.

"Let's shower together," I whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Then we'll get some breakfast... and figure out what the hell to do with social media, okay?"

His eyes crinkle with the ghost of a smirk. "You just want to see me naked again."

I laugh, already throwing the sheet off and reaching for his hand. "Guilty."

He lets me pull him out of bed, and we stumble sleepily toward the bathroom, both of us grinning like idiots. The steam starts rising as the water heats up, and once we're under the spray, everything slows down again.