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32

~Rosie

I run my hands along the duvet, my throat dry.

Time stands on the other side of the bed, rifling through the dresser. My heart flutters, my stomach turns over. Why did I agree to this again? I know why, because I’m lonely, and curious, and could do with a good night sleep, which could be assisted by the warmth of a body next to me. Even if that body belongs to my mate, who I shouldn’t even be near right now.

I stare at his back. Beneath his inky blue shirt, I can see his muscle shifting as he closes the dresser draw. Quickly darting my gaze away, I concentrate on my duvet smoothing, until he turns around, tossing me a long shirt, which must belong to him.

He raises an eyebrow at me wordlessly. I could protest, knowing I have less revealing options back in my room, but I decide against it.

I’m too tired to argue.

“Turn around,” I scold. Surprisingly, no protest, or snarky retort, as he turns around, facing the wall. I quickly change, not taking my eyes off him for a single
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