He grinned shamelessly. “That’s on you.”
 
 Fair.
 
 I stood, adjusting my dress as he helped me put my panties back on, and I leaned against the sink, legs still jelly. He tucked another lock of hair behind my ear, his voice softening. “You looked like you needed a reset.”
 
 I stared at him, quiet now. “Yeah… I did.”
 
 He pressed his forehead to mine. “Come on, Sweetness. Let’s get back before someone notices we’re missing.”
 
 I caught his wrist before he could pull away.
 
 “Before we go,” I said quietly, “can I ask you something?”
 
 He paused. “What is it?”
 
 I hesitated, eyes locked on the tiny gold button of his collar, suddenly unsure if I even wanted the answer. But the question had been clawing at the back of my throat since the moment he said it.
 
 “What did you mean when you said I should behave?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay even. “Do I embarrass you or something?”
 
 He flinched—just a little. But I caught it.
 
 “No,” he said quickly. “God, no. Carmen.”
 
 I folded my arms, waiting.
 
 He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. It’s not you. You don’t embarrass me, not even a little. I just—I told you to behave because I didn’t trust myself not to murder someone if they disrespected you.”
 
 That got a laugh out of me.
 
 “You’re an idiot,” I whispered.
 
 He grinned. “Yeah.”
 
 I rested my chin on his chest, letting myself soften into him. “Don’t tell me to behave again.”
 
 “I won’t.”
 
 We stood like that for a moment. Finally, I sighed and stepped back. “Alright. Let’s go pretend we weren’t just desecrating their bathroom.”
 
 Theo smirked. “You mean elevate it.”
 
 I rolled my eyes and opened the door. “Uh-huh. Come on, Mr. Palate Cleanser. Let’s get you another glass of overpriced champagne.”
 
 You Know Wassup.
 
 Day Three.
 
 I was still half-asleep when I rolled over, landed half on top of him, and immediately got tangled in a mess of warm limbs and sheets. The light bleeding through the curtains was rude. So was the fact that he was already awake and staring at me.
 
 “Creep,” I mumbled, my voice scratchy with sleep, eyes barely open.
 
 “You drool in your sleep,” He didn’t miss a beat. “It’s cute.”
 
 “Aww. You still into me even though I drool?”
 
 “Unfortunately.”
 
 I smacked his chest, but it lacked commitment. Stretching like a cat, I flopped onto my back and blinked at the ceiling. “Why are you still in bed, anyway? Don’t you have work today?”