Ava exhaled sharply, still gripping Lucas's shoulders.
His breathing had evened out, but his body was still running hot—too hot. His muscles were tense, his skin flushed, his golden eyes flickering with remnants of whatever the hell had just happened inside him.
"You're burning up." Ava's voice was flat, but laced with irritation.
Lucas grinned weakly. "Hot, aren't I?"
Ava shoved him. "You're delirious, Bai."
Lucas let her push him, but barely moved. "Maybe."
Ava sighed, shoving a hand through her hair. "You need rest."
Lucas tilted his head, voice slurring slightly. "Are you... tucking me in, Beauty?"
Ava ignored him, yanking his arm over her shoulder and dragging him to his feet.
He was heavy.