“I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.” Fantasizing about it doesn’t count. “Masochist, huh?” A corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk. “You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.” A smile of my own curves my lips. “Unless you’re worried about me killing you while we sleep.” We round a corner, and the tunnel continues.
