Elias’s pov

I didn’t sleep.

The rain kept coming down in sheets against the glass, and every time I closed my eyes I felt the heat of his mouth again, the way his hips had pushed up against mine on the floor, the broken sound he’d made when my hand slid under the waistband of his jeans. The memory sat in my chest like a live wire. By the time the sky started to lighten I was already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed with my elbows on my knees, trying to force the want back into the box it belonged in.

It didn’t work.

The door to...