Chapter 62

He was exhausted, wired, turned on, sick of it, yet whenever he’d shut the door to his back room, he’d feel drawn to his new creatures, and it took every ounce of his will to let them rest for the night.

Feeling a little guilty about missing out on the whole evening, he stopped at the bedroom door and listened. Was Tristan asleep?

Rain gently opened the door. The room was dimly lit and Tristan was on his side, under the covers and facing the window. Rain tiptoed across the room and quietly changed into his pajama pants and a fresh T-shirt. He pulled the blanket down, watching for Tristan’s reaction, and crawled into bed. At the foot of the bed, was Tristan’s open suitcase—he’d obviously given up on going home for clothes. He hadn’t slept in his own apartment for days.

Rain inched himself closer and wrapped his arm around Tristan’s waist, pressing his mouth to his bare shoulder.

Tristan took hold of his hand and squeezed it. “Did it go well tonight?” he asked in a groggy voice.