The decision crystallised somewhere between their third lazy kiss and the mutual realisation that moving sounded like a hate crime against their own bodies.
"I'm not going to school," Sierra declared, still draped over his chest on the bathroom's heated marble floor, both of them wrapped in towels that probably cost more than most people's rent.
"Neither am I."
"Good." She pressed a smug kiss to his collarbone. "Because I am physically incapable. You've absolutely wrecked me. Again."
Phei threaded fingers through her damp hair. "You're welcome."
"I didn't say thank you."
"Your entire body language is screaming gratitude. Loudly.Possibly in tongues."
She bit him—sharp enough to sting, gentle enough to promise more—and he rolled them over in one smooth motion, swallowing her laugh with a kiss that erased whatever half-assed protest she'd been forming.
The morning slipped away into something dangerously close to domestic bliss.
