Chapter 26

Riley’s POV

I sighed with all the dramatic flair of a soap-opera extra, then shoved myself under the blankets and flopped onto my back. There was exactly one foot of mattress between Noah and me—an eternity in “cozy couple” terms but apparently nonnegotiable in his personal bubble. Fine, fine. I wasn’t about to morph into some mail-order bride with Stockholm syndrome, so personal space it was.

“Close your eyes,” Noah said, voice impossibly calm.

My lip twitched. I opened my mouth to protest but—nope—he beat me to it. “Ry, close your mouth and shut your eyes. I promise I’m not going to paw you in your sleep.”

Oh, imaginative brain cells of mine, why did you go there? But yeah, logically his behavior so far had been Mr. Polite Wolf: zero abusive transformations when I yawned. I squinted at the ceiling, then complied.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” he asked after a beat.

My inner voice: Why the hell is he asking career counseling qu