CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX LET’S MAKE IT WEIRD LUNA
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
LET’S MAKE IT WEIRD
LUNA
I’m not in Kansas anymore.
Or in the bed that’s too hard.
Or whatever the fitting storybook cliché is.
I blinked a few times to clear the sleep from my eyes. It didn’t do a lot of good. It was still pitch-black in the room.
Unlike the nosy-ass blonde intruder from the tale, I was in my own bed. Or rather, my loaner bed. But I wasn’t in it alone.
Rhys was there.
His naked body partially under my naked body.
Even in sleep, he couldn’t stop from gripping my thigh. His other arm was stretched behind me so he could cup my ass.
An ass that was, as mentioned, naked.
Because we’d had sex.
Sex.
With Rhys.
I waited for the freak-out to hit.
It wasn’t about the fact it would only be the once. Don’t get me wrong. That was devastating. If the one time had been mediocre or even just good enough, then I could’ve moved on with a fond memory. But it had been incredible.
Earth-shattering.
I’d never come like that before. Not even with myself, and I was a damn attentive lover. I’d also never had someone take the lead like Rhys had. I’d had guys try, but their poser bravado gave me the instant ick, and there was no coming back from that.
No coming at all, actually.
Others waited for me to take charge. To make the decision. To order them around.
There was no coming there, either.
With Rhys, there was a perfect balance. He took the choices out of my hands while also somehow making consent part of the foreplay. It’d been sexy. Fun. Wild. Intense.
I wasn’t sure any sex would ever measure up. He would forever be the dick that got away in my origin story.
But I knew what I was getting into. I accepted the terms. After all, one night of amazing sex was better than always wondering what-if. I refused to regret anything.
Even when it came to my work and the risk I’d taken.
Just flirting with Rhys had violated so many rules.
Having sex with him?
I’d lived my entire life laser-focused on becoming a cop.
It was all I’d ever wanted, and I worked each day to be the best at it.
To push myself. To be tougher, faster, smarter, and kinder than I was the day before.
To ignore everything—hopes and secret desires included—that didn’t further that one goal.
I didn’t cheat. I didn’t steal. I wasn’t a dirty cop. I didn’t even accept free coffees.
So for once.
For just one single time.
I deserved to do something selfish. Something good. Something happy. Something where no one got hurt.
Except maybe me since he’d ruined me for all other sex, but whatever. That was a crash-out I would cross when I got there.
What I lacked in mental freak-out, I made up for in full bladder since I’d instantly fallen asleep when we were done.
I tried to dislodge myself, but Rhys’s hold tightened like a vise.
I was finally able to wiggle free and rush to the bathroom.
Once I was finished, I went back across the hall, but not into the bedroom with Rhys.
I was tempted to go in, though. To climb into the comfy bed, situate myself back in his arms, and pretend I’d never gotten up. What I didn’t want, however, was to make things tense.
Or worse, for him to think he had to spell it all out for me. I’d cut off his words earlier because I hadn’t wanted to hear the reiteration that he preferred to keep things casual. I certainly didn’t want—or need—to hear them the morning after.
I continued the theme of the night by going to sleep in the other bed that wasn’t my own.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before the mattress dipped behind me.
For the briefest second, I was annoyed at the disruption when I’d just dozed off.
Why make me switch rooms in the middle of the night?
But that wasn’t why Rhys was there. His firm body wrapped around me, and his voice was a groggy whisper. “Don’t pull this shit again.”
“What shit?”
“Leaving my bed.”
I didn’t know what was happening. I also didn’t particularly care.
Mostly because I fell asleep, warm and cozy in his tight hold.
I’m oversleeping.
My internal clock was fine-tuned. I didn’t even need an alarm most days—unless it was after a long night, and I didn’t want to risk sleeping away a day off. But when my lids shot open at the sleepy thought, I knew it was late in the morning.
Or early in the afternoon.
I rubbed my bleary eyes and stood.
And instantly remembered I was naked. I scanned around for a shirt or something, but there was nothing.
Looks like the blanket is coming with me.
Wrapping it around me like a dress, I opened the door with the intention of quickly darting into the other room. My daring escape was cut off by a throat clearing. I took a few backward steps to peek into the living room.
Rhys sat at the far end of the couch with a mug in his hand and a laptop open in front of him. His mouth curved into a smirk. “Nice dress, princess.”
I did a little spin and curtsy. “I couldn’t pull off the regency heist, but I saw this lying around.”
He crooked two fingers at me. “Come here.”
Oh no.
It is too early to deal with any of this.
Not to mention, I fell asleep without brushing my teeth last night and… yikes.
“Give me a minute,” I said, ducking into the bathroom before tossing the blanket into the hallway.
It was not a minute.
I took my time showering and getting ready for the day before I had to face him—and the flaw in my plan.
I’d forgotten to grab my clothes first.
Cracking the door, I peeked into the hall to see the blanket was gone. That left just the towel. I secured it around myself and eased the door open again.
To find Rhys waiting in the hall directly across from me.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“We really don’t.”
He crossed his arms, highlighting the disadvantage I was at since he was fully dressed for the day while I was exposed—literally if the towel didn’t stay in place. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. “Sorry, did I make that sound like a question? It wasn’t.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said, lifting my chin. Neutral face. Neutral tone. I was proud of myself for that, even if I followed it up by trying to flee to the bedroom.
Unsurprisingly, that escape was thwarted when he followed me. “Is that so?”
“Yes. We both knew what last night was.”
“And what was that?”
I wasn’t sure why he was performing a mini-interrogation.
I could only assume he was fishing around to make sure we were on the same page without bluntly putting it out there to hurt my feelings.
Especially if he’d joined me in the guest room while mostly asleep.
He might’ve woken up to me in his bed that morning and thought I climbed in with him.
“It was fun,” I said with a smile that wasn’t forced since it was the truth.
“That’s it?”
“Really fun?” I tried.
He just blinked at me.
Ooookay.
Maybe I should’ve gone with neat.
I gestured toward the closet. “I need to get dressed.”
He still didn’t move or take the subtle hint.
“Which means you need to get out.”
He didn’t take that not-so-subtle hint, either.
Fine, whatever.
I walked into the closet to get changed in there as I spoke. I hadn’t unpacked my stuff to intermix with his copious amounts of black, gray, blue, more black, and flannel, and I bent to find some clothes.
Maybe it was cowardly to talk when we weren’t face to face, but I didn’t care. That was exactly what I did.
Anything to make the moment less awkward.
“You don’t have to worry,” I said loud enough that he could hear me in the other room.
“Then why’re you yelling at me?”
I jolted and spun to face him, nearly losing my towel in the process. “Because you’re supposed to be out there.”
“Why?”
“So I can get dressed.”
He didn’t leave. Nope, he crossed his arms and his ankles, settling back against the wall like he was getting comfy for a long stay.
I scowled at him.
He gave a lazy finger roll to prompt me on. “Why don’t I have to worry?”
“Because unlike you, I’m not going to make this weird.”
“How am I making it weird?”
I threw the hand not clutching the towel out and gestured up and down. “Whatever this is.”
“It’s a conversation.”
“That we don’t need to have.”
“’Cause you’re not going to make it weird.”
“Exactly,” I said with a sigh, relieved he got it. Or so I thought.
“Still lost on what you’d be making weird, Luna.”
The use of my real name. His arrogant stance.
The lazy way he gestured—reminding me of the time in his office, a king and his kingdom.
The evenness in his tone. The way control and power were such an intrinsic part of who he was, he didn’t need to brag or even say anything.
No one needed convincing of what was a plain, simple fact.
It sent unease through me as my instincts tried to warn me to tread carefully.
I really should’ve listened.