Chapter 89

Summer’s POV

That pattern dragged on for a week—our appetites turned into insomnia triggers. The moment we finished eating, neither of us could drift off. By Day Seven, Jared casually announced to Asher (who’d been hovering with every possible condiment) that we were now fully capable of feeding ourselves. Revolutionary news.

Yet neither of us moved from the covers for at least two more hours. Honestly, I had zero clue what to do with my hands once breakfast had been cleared away. I lay there, staring at the ceiling like I might find some profound revelation plastered between the plastic paint swirls.

“How’s your wolf?” Jared asked, teeth crunching on a fry like it was the last one on Earth.

“Still an ass,” I muttered, resisting the urge to let out a theatrical sigh. He either ignored my dramatics or cornered me in with them—either way, it was maddeningly endearing. Which meant my brain now resembled a squirrel hopped up on espresso beans, twitching be