“Yep. Just using your toothbrush.” A muffled chuckle. “I don’t mind.” I bust out of the bathroom, catching him with a smile still on his lips. His eyes drop to my legs, then trail up my body. His jaw clenches. “Lana.” “Sharing toothbrushes is disgusting. Even if we were mated, I wouldn’t do that.” Foot, meet mouth. “If we were mated, we’d probably have a matching pair.” “But how would we tell them apart?” “One on the left, one on the right. Just like sides of the bed.” “You’d take the side closest to the door.” “Naturally.”
