His hand lay across my stomach as he slept soundly. I entwined my fingers with his and breathed through the warmth that seeped through my chest. Such a simple, sweet thing to do, yet holding hands in bed was incredibly intimate.

And without my consent, with my defences in ruins, while my brain was sleeping, my stupid heart went and fell headfirst into love.

When I opened the door, Andrew was standing there like a remedy for heart palpitations. Or maybe he made them worse. It was hard to tell.

I think he won a tiny piece of my heart that day. If he didn't have the whole damn thing before then, he certainly had part of it now.

I'm surprised I could actually talk with how much I was grinning.

My last thought before falling asleep last night was a realisation that I was falling in love with Andrew. Well, not me exactly. My stupid, traitorous heart.