“What organization?”
Tripp met my confused gaze with his own wicked heat. “Labeling my property.”
Icouldn’t sleep.
Unlike the night before, I hadn’t been in a complete fog when we left Gilded. That meant I’d easily recognized that Tripp once again hadn’t taken me home.
Well, not to my home.
When I’d pointed out that there was no car to pick up in the morning so we didn’t need to be closer, he’d countered with the fact I was supposed to go to his house on Saturday anyway to work. My stance wasn’t firm to begin with, but I folded when he reminded me that the new wall calendar was sitting in a package on his kitchen island.
It was a good and effective rebuttal.
Bribed with an administrative tool.
I really was a nerd.
After everything we’d done together—to each other—I’d thought he would sleep in bed with me. I’d hoped he would. But he hadn’t come into the bedroom. At least not while I was still there. I’d stepped out of the bathroom to find one of his tees waiting on the bed and an ice water on the nightstand.
And no sign of the man himself.
I tossed and flopped on the big mattress before kicking a leg out to roll the other way. And then back. Then back again.
I should’ve been asleep. I’d been awake since the early hours, our time at Gilded had taken more out of me than an hour of yoga followed by a five-mile hike, and it was late.
It didn’t matter.
Sleep wasn’t happening.
I thought about creeping through the house to see if Tripp had a home gym. He was in such amazing shape—I’d seen the naked proof of it—that it was a safe bet. Terrorizing myself with the stationary bike in my apartment’s meager gym was how I usually dealt with my rare bouts of stress-induced insomnia, but I doubted my body could handle the pelvic pressure.
I also doubted it would help.
Only one thing would.
Or one man, in my case.
It’ll only be for a little bit. Then I’ll be up by six anyway.
Decision reached, I threw off the blanket I’d made a mess of and climbed from the bed. I crept out to the hallway before hesitating outside of the guest room. The door was cracked, with no sign of a phone light or TV illuminating the darkened space.
Apparently, I’m the only one having trouble sleeping.
Part of me wanted to quietly backtrack so I didn’t disturb Tripp. Most of me wanted to climb into bed next to him.
I hesitated, unsure which to do.
The choice was made for me.
“What’s wrong, siren?” he called, his voice lacking any of the gruff signs he’d been asleep.
I rolled my lips in, tempted to lie and say I was just going to watch TV or something. Or maybe flee like I’d been caught doing something wrong.
“I asked you a question, Greer.”
At the authoritative demand in his tone, the truth tumbled free. “I can’t sleep, so I was coming to see if you couldn’t sleep and if you wanted to come sleep with me. But you were probably already asleep, and so now I’m going to go try to sleep. And also try to stop saying sleep so much.”
The bed creaked, and I turned to haul ass back to the room. I didn’t make it far before his arm went around my waist to drag me against him. His face buried into my neck.
