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I eyed him with mild concern, remembering how exhausted he’d been last night. “How are you feeling?”

He grinned at me. “I feel great, kitten. Slept really well.” Stepping closer, he cupped my chin and leaned down to kiss me. “Thanks for letting me sleep over.”

I mean, I hadn’t really had a choice, but I didn’t want to say that.

I kind of wanted him to sleep over again.

Just so I could get a handjob in the shower in the morning. Not for any other reason.

This was still just casual. All very casual.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll be out of your way.” Dan ambled out of the bathroom with the towel slung over his shoulder, his ass and thick thighs flexing with every step.

I frowned a little as I followed, parting my lips to tell him that he wasn’t in my way before I stopped myself. I usually hated my morning routine being messed up, but… I didn’t mind this. Him being here.

Probably because of the shower handjob. That had to be why.

“So, uh…” Dan sounded a little hesitant as he pulled on his clothes in the bedroom, which surprised me. He never seemed unsure of himself. “Do you still want to hang out later? Even though I kept you up late last night,” he added in his more usual self-assured tone, flashing me a grin.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, then flushed. “I mean, I’m still up for it. If you are.”

“Yeah,” he said, maybe just as fast as I had. “I am. I doubt I’ll see you at work, so… I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay.” My belly swooped when he approached, cupping the back of my head and leaning down to kiss me as I clutched the towel around my hips. It went on for a long time, slow and lingering. Almost like neither of us wanted to say goodbye.

But that was stupid. This was just casual.

When our lips finally parted, he nuzzled my cheek before pressing another soft kiss there. “See you later, Rafe.”

“Bye,” I said hoarsely, my mouth still tingling as I watched him saunter out of the room.

—

That afternoon at work, I blew out a slow breath as I reluctantly headed for Holt’s office.

It wasn’t that I disliked Larkin and Seb, but the hyperactive fae liked to talk. A lot.

And I did not like to talk a lot. Especially when I was concentrating at work.

The door was partially open, so I pushed on it and stepped into the waiting room attached to Holt’s office. Seb was sitting on the couch doing a crossword, and he noticed me instantly, flicking his eyes up and giving me a brief nod.

Larkin was lying beside him upside down, his long legs thrown over the back of the couch and his head dangling off the edge of the front cushion, a waterfall of glossy pink hair trailing to the floor.

His face, normally a pale blue, was turning dark navy, and I realised why when he said in a slightly strained voice, “How long do you think I can stay like this before I pass out?”

“I’d prefer it if we didn’t find out, sweetheart,” Seb said calmly, then tapped Larkin’s leg with his pencil. “Rafe’s here.”

“Wha?” He lifted his head and spotted me. “Oh, hey, Rafe!”

He struggled upright, almost nailing Seb in the jaw with his knee as he turned. The big werewolf didn’t even react. Just calmly wrote something on his crossword and absently rubbed Larkin’s thigh when the fae got comfortable right beside him.

“Hey,” I replied politely. “I was just wondering—”

“Hair still looks good,” Larkin interrupted cheerfully. “But I think the pink is fading a little bit, bro.”

“Uh.” I reached up to touch my head, trying not to eye Larkin’s natural bright pink hair with envy. “Yeah, pink is harder to maintain. I’ll dye it again soon.”

“So how’s it going?” Larkin leaned forward and grabbed a donut from the box on the coffee table. “Are you here to see Holt? He’s having lunch.”