Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 309

Camila Davis’s mind was foggy, her thoughts slow and heavy, like she’d just tried to run a marathon in the middle of a snowstorm. She frowned in her sleep, as if wrestling with herself just to pry her eyelids open.

But her exhaustion was a heavyweight champ. Her eyes felt like someone had replaced them with two lead paperweights—she just couldn’t manage it.

Dennis Williams watched her from beside the battered old couch, a silent grin tugging at his lips as he noticed how her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks like the wings of a restless butterfly.

She must be really wiped out, he thought. Out cold while sitting upright—now that’s a new level of tired.

He knew exactly what had gone down last night; he’d been kept in the loop the whole time. He was well aware of how many fires she’d put out, how many times she’d run herself ragged.

Now that she finally had a moment to breathe, he sure as hell wasn’t going to disturb her.

Still, there was something a bit…awkward about how they were sitting.

He glanced down at her face, which, at some point, had ended up resting in his palm. Her skin was pale and smooth, despite the all-nighter she’d pulled. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her lips looked a little drained of color, but the shape of her mouth was lovely all the same.

It was the first time he’d looked at her this closely.

Her features were so delicately put together, almost like some artist had sketched her from memory—a gentle arch to her brows, a hint of mischief at the corners of her eyes.

Dennis’s gaze lingered, dark and intense, before he finally started to shift, intending to help her find a more comfortable position.

But before he could move, Camila stirred.

She blinked her eyes open, still unfocused, and found herself nose-to-nose with a face that looked like it had just stepped out of a GQ photoshoot.

The man leaning over her wore gold-rimmed glasses that made his already sharp eyes look even more mysterious. His straight nose, his lips curved into a gentle smile—somehow softer, warmer than usual.

His hand, large and elegant, was still resting against her cheek. They were close—closer than she’d ever dared to imagine.

She was practically wrapped up in his breath, his presence.

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