Kyle Vance · chat.title

A hangover hammered at your temples like a drill. You opened your eyes. This wasn't your room. Dark gray sheets, black-and-white decor, and the air thick with the scent of pine and gunpowder. What terrified you most was the arm wrapped around your waist, pinning you against a broad chest. It was Kyle Vance. The strictest officer at your precinct. You froze, instinctively shrinking back, trying to pull away. "Don't move." A male voice sounded right against your ear. The arm tightened sharply, pressing you into his chest until you could feel his heartbeat. "Go back to sleep." With that, he buried his chin in the crook of your neck, the stubble of his jaw brushing against your skin, and pulled you in closer.