I’m not the kind of man who worries about where someone goes in the morning. I don’t wake up and check messages. I don’t lose sleep over who else gets their time. But she’s different. She makes me want things I shouldn’t want. Things that feel dangerous.
I look at my bed again. The dent where her head was. The sheet tangled where her knees pressed.
I’m not done with her.
Not even close.
I decide to text her something short and simple. Something I know will make her roll her eyes and bite her lip at the same time.
Me: Morning, Little Menace. Hope you didn’t leave a glass slipper at my place. I’d hate to have to come hunt you down.
I stare at the screen for a few seconds, waiting for those three little dots to show up.
Nothing yet.
That’s fine.
She’ll text when she’s ready.
I pull on a shirt and run a hand through my hair before grabbing my keys. I have clients to meet and papers to sign, butalready I’m thinking about when I’ll see her again. It won’t be long.
She asked for patience.
I can give her a little of that.
Butsoonhas an expiration date.
And whoever this other guy is, I’ll be shaking his hand and sizing him up before long.
Chapter Seven
PENELOPE
Mornings shouldn’t startlike this.
My hair’s still damp, there’s a coffee stain on my sleeve, and I’m definitely going to be late.
I blame Gideon. Entirely.
The man’s got magic between his legs and zero respect for morning classes. I got home early enough, but after I showered, I sat down on my bed in my towel, telling myself I’d rest my eyes for five minutes… and woke up forty-five minutes later.
Now my legs ache from rushing across campus, my bag’s half-unzipped, and my brain still feels hazy from too many rounds ofGod, right there.
By the time I reach the lecture hall, there’s barely a minute left before class starts. My heels hit the tile like gunshots. I push the door open, trying to look composed even though my lungs are on fire?—
And there he is.
Talon.
Of course he’s here.
Not just here, but waiting for me.
He’s leaning against my desk like he owns it, hoodie pushed up over his forearms, a lazy grin curving his mouth. Those damn glasses catch the light and make him look too fucking smart for his own good. It’s the grin that gets me though. Confident. Knowing. Like he planned this.
I walk down the aisle with my best fake calm, pretending I don’t feel his eyes follow every step. The professor glances up and nods, none the wiser. I slide into my chair, drop my bag, and give Talon my bestprofessional adultvoice.
“What do you need, Talon?”
