I’m about to get up when Chase stirs. "You’re fun," he says, nudging my back with his elbow.
I half laugh, half choke. "I’m fairly certain that any fun that was had was because of you."
"And you."
I glance back at him and find he’s grinning with as much lust in his gaze as ever. "I assure you," I tell him in my very serious, very librarian voice, "I am not fun."
He laughs. "Whatever you say, kitten."
Then I laugh too because this has been fun. Which means maybe I am fun. When I’m with him, anyway.
Which is very temporary.
In fact, we aren’t even with each other. Not really. Which is exactly the reason I need to get out of here.
I start to roll out of the bed when Chase stops me.
"Where are you going?" he asks with a note of alarm.
His reaction startles me, and I’m suddenly unsure. "To...clean up?"