She told me she couldn’t take anymore, but when I yanked her into my bed with me, I disappeared beneath the covers for one more taste. And it turns out she’s a big fat liar because she absolutely took more.

I should be exhausted right now, but apparently my dick didn’t get the memo. Because he’s up and ready to defile the twenty-five-year-old sprawled out in my bed. Again.

“Down, boy,” I murmur, reaching to adjust myself in my boxers. Willa stirs when I move, but my opposite arm comes around to the dimples at the small of her back, pressing her against me.

I don’t care if it’s physically uncomfortable. Having Willa close is comforting. It’s like having Luke under the same roof. I know everyone is safe.

I wish I could say I felt the same way about Luke’s mom. But I don’t. The only times Talia crosses my mind are when I’m feeling wounded or insecure. When that bitter taste crawls up my throat and I think about the years I wasted trying to make things work with her when deep down I didn’t want them to.

The worst part is, I can’t bring myself to regret it because I have Luke. And he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Willa moves her head to my chest, sliding her fingers through the sparse hair. “Shh. Go back to sleep. I’m having the best dream.”

The thought that Willa is another of the best things in my life crops up, but it scares me. It feels too soon. She feels too young. It feels too . . . impossible.

“What are you dreaming about, Red?” I lift my head and drop a kiss to her silky hair.

I feel her chest shake a little, her breasts pressing against me. Even the metal of her piercings is warm, because of course she sleeps naked. “That my hot boss banged my brains out last night.”

I shake my head.

“No, for real. You should see this fucking guy. All dark and broody with a massive dick.”

“Willa.”

“These big, calloused hands to go with his big, round ass—”

“Woman.” I flip her onto her back, the sound of her giggle music to my ears. I lie on top of her, propped on my elbows. She’s got this playful smile on her face and creases on her cheek from the pillowcase. She looks like a sleepy, creamy, green-eyed goddess.

I shake my head at her again. I do that a lot. It used to be out of annoyance, now it’s more like . . . disbelief.

“Is woman how you say, Thank you for all the compliments, Willa?”