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I laughed again, louder this time, and Luke laughed with me. Then he reached out and laid a hand on my arm and turned those wide brown eyes on me. “I don’t suppose you wanna stay for a while and, um. Cuddle?”

The sensible thing to do would have been to say no. Cuddling was skirting dangerously close to dating behavior, and I had no intention of ever dating Luke. He was a werewolf.

And I didn’t get involved with werewolves.

So why did staying here and cuddling sound so damn tempting?

It seemed I was incapable of making sensible decisions when it came to Luke—and it didn't look like that was about to change. My mouth opened before I could stop it and I said, “Sure.”

His face lit up and he curled up with his head on my chest, resting above my heart. I found myself wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close, and even though this was a terrible idea—the worst idea—I couldn’t regret it.

I’d stay long enough to be polite and then make my excuses.

That was what I told myself, anyway—right before the warmth of Luke’s body and his gentle, rhythmic breathing lulled me to sleep.

When I woke up, there was an unfamiliar body plastered against my side in a bed that wasn’t mine, and it took me a second to remember where I was, but then it all came flooding back.

Luke and his crunchy leaf therapy suggestion.

Truly phenomenal sex.

And the offer of cuddling—although I wasn’t sure if that was part of the therapy plan.

When I opened my eyes, daylight was creeping in around the edges of Luke’s curtains, and it didn’t have that hazy, predawn quality that suggested early morning. No, this was full daylight, warm and mellow and slightly judgmental of anyone who was still in bed.

I glanced down to find that sometime during the night, Luke had pulled the comforter over us and slung his leg over mine, pinning me in place.

I liked it more than I should have.

I ran a hand idly over my stomach and found a mess of dried jizz there.

Oh. Right.

I pulled back the comforter carefully, eased myself out from under Luke’s still-sleeping body, and went to find the bathroom. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out—it was the only unopened door in the apartment.

The bathroom was only small, but white paint and good lighting made it look bigger, and it was surprisingly clean considering it belonged to a single guy. A quick look in the cabinet under the sink showed a stack of clean towels as well as a couple of spare toothbrushes—Luke was obviously used to having company over. I did my best to ignore the sharp twist in my gut at the thought of him with other men.

I turned on the shower and got in. I used Luke’s bodywash to clean away the cum and sweat from last night, and once I was done I stood with my head bowed and my eyes closed, letting the water flow over me for a couple of minutes while I woke up properly.

When I was done, I slicked back my hair, doing my best to tame the curly bits at the sides that made me look like an English Sheepdog when they were wet. I cleaned my teeth, dried myself quickly, and wrapped a towel around my waist.

When I walked back to the bedroom, Luke was perched on the side of the bed blinking slowly, like he wasn’t quite all the way awake. He was cute as fuck, all sleep-mussed like that. “Hey,” he said, his voice rough. “I see you found the bathroom.”

“Yeah, I was kind of a mess from last night.”

“Same,” Luke said. He sounded pretty happy about it. He stood and stretched, letting out a yawn. “I’m gonna clean up, and then I thought we might grab some breakfast?” He paused. “Unless you’ve got somewhere to be?”

“Nope. I’m all yours.”

A pleased look flashed across his features. “Good to know.”

He disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. I heard the water cut on, and a minute later, the sound of enthusiastic, off-key singing as Luke belted out something that might have been “Don’t Stop Me Now.”

It reassured me in a way I didn’t know I needed. If Luke was massacring Queen classics in the shower, he wasn’t regretting his choices from last night—and neither was I.

If anything, my only regret was that this could only ever be a temporary arrangement.

Luke didn’t waste time, and by the time I’d finished getting dressed, he was back. There was a definite spring in his step as he pulled on a pair of worn jeans that were more fitted than anything I’d seen him in before and added a tee and a pair of Converse.