Michael Reese.
“Uh, did you just. . .?”
I shot Jonathan a glare to hide my embarrassment, swatting his hand away. I waited for a snarky comment from him, but he just heaved a sigh, asking for permission as he helped me sit up.
No wonder I was running a fever, sweating like a pig, feeling the need to touch myself; I was at the start of my heat, which could have gotten triggered by the manifestation.
With this thought in my head, I scowled at the only person with me in the room, wishing it was Hayden instead.
Jonathan cleared his throat, looking away as he said. “They asked me not to give you any suppressants, and Hayden should be back soon, so. . .”
The back of his neck was beet red, which drove me to say, grumbling. “This is bullshit.”
“I understand,” he said, totally misunderst
