Chapter 9

Keith had barely dragged his suit down his head when he heard a splash in the pool. A frown crossed over his face and was gone in an instant. He was the epitome of peace and calmness. He could not and would not frown. Had he heard right?

No, he doubted it.

Glancing at the mirror, he assessed his outfit and wondered what would, as mortals said, get him laid. He needed it so badly. His options were limited. It was going to be either a random one-night stand who he would never meet again, or he would grab his patient with the nastiest temper on the planet. That was the issue with redheads. They were too damn fierce, and he almost wanted to say she deserved the insomnia.

But no one did.

Well, except for those on his hate list, and he rarely had people on his hate list anyways. He was the god of sleep, sure, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t gaining anything in the long run. People owed him their lives when they slept. Some psychologists who had been close to deciphe