Deven sighed and pulled the sheets to her breasts, tucking them tight under her arms. The whole ordeal had her acting on impulse, completely uncharacteristic of her. From the visit to the mystery apartment, the near-fight with Deuce, now sleeping with her friend slash dad’s doctor slash missing sister’s boyfriend? It was like something out of a reality show.

A hand grazed her shoulder and she flinched, bolting up in the bed.

“Hey, you okay?” Paul was awake now, the last fragments of slumber drooping his eyes.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

Sleeping with you. Cheating on my boyfriend. Liking it. “For waking you,” she decided, keeping the linens tight against her frame.

Paul stifled a yawn and sat up, shimmying closer to her until they sat hip-to-hip. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said, placing a kiss on her shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for the chance to wake up next to you.” Another kiss, this time his tongue danced across her skin. She trembled under the gesture, willing her body not to react. His words came tumbling back like a sack of bricks. He had said he loved her. Damn, what had she done?

“Paul . . .” It came out much weaker than she intended and Deven had to scold herself at the plea in her voice.

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted you, Deven?” Paul’s forehead rested against hers and she closed her eyes, warming under the intimacy.

Her cell phone rang again, not enough to startle her but enough to snap her out of her daze. “Paul, we can’t,” she whispered.

“I want you again”—he kissed her neck—”and again”—a kiss on her cheek—“and again.” He was making his way to her lips and almost instinctively, Deven’s lips parted to receive him. Another ring and she snatched back as if she’d been electrocuted.

“No.” As if to prove her point, Deven swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, dragging the covers with her to wrap around her body like a mummy. “Paul, please. I’m sorry but this—”

“What, Deven? What was this? Don’t say ‘a mistake.’”

His questions were laced with anger, but the pain in his eyes was even more unbearable. She had no words so all she could do was shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t get you, Deven. I’ve made my feelings clear to you from the beginning. Don’t act like this was just a fling in the heat of the moment.”

“I’m not! I—”

“What? You don’t have feelings for me?”

It sounded rhetorical, but Paul looked to be waiting for an answer. Flustered, Deven rubbed the back of her neck and tried again. “It’s not like that, Paul,” she said with care. “I do like you.”