Lyra POV

"It's like he's a nun," Lyra whines, and Lilith looks up from painting her nails in the corner of the room.

"Maybe he just respects you?" She suggests, rolling her eyes and picking up the silver nail polish.

"Maybe you should make the first move?" Meredith grumbles, plucking her brows in the mirror.

"I make the first move with everything. It's his turn," Lyra grunts, pulling herself back up onto the bed with a lot of effort from where she was half slumped onto the ground.

"Mike is the least spontaneous person I've ever met if we're complaining about mates," Meredith moans, dropping her tweezers in a huff....