Lucian
When we got to the room, she went straight into the bathroom and locked the door. I stood outside for a moment, stunned. I hadn’t even known she locked doors around me. Thirty minutes passed before she came out, hair damp, wrapped in a towel. She didn’t say a word. Just started dressing.
I showered quickly and stepped out to find her already in bed.
Sort of.
She wore a red lace hipster and a tank top that showed way too much cleavage to be innocent—and yet, my side of the bed was stripped. The pillows. The duvet. Gone.
I froze.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Lucian,” she said calmly. “You get the couch.”
I groaned. I wanted to go to her. To kiss her shoulder. To beg.
But I knew she wasn’t ready to hear it.
So I did the only thing I could—I laid on the couch.
“Mara, I’m really sor
