We spent the entirety of the next day studying and exchanging steamy looks every chance we got. Whatever shame I’d felt about wanting him seemed to have vanished entirely.

Breakfast somehow turned into sex on the kitchen table (which I cleaned afterward), lunch turned into couch sex, and dinner turned into actual, honest-to-goodness floor sex.

I’d never wanted to make love on the floor, but damn.

It had its perks.

Dessert turned into a game of eating off of each other’s bodies, and ...