Chapter ElevenAfter a little while, I kind of slumped off Paul’s lap, moving to sit beside him with his arm around my shoulders. With our breathing still returning to normal, neither of us spoke, which was more than fine with me, because I had a lot of thinking to do. Namely, thinking about how I was going to get through the next few weeks to get my story, which I was still determined to do, without becoming hopelessly addicted to Paul’s body. Part of me wondered if it wasn’t already too late.
Another part of me wondered if I just should have picked Eric, the first shifter who’d approached me in the ballroom, to be “my” shifter for the purposes of getting my story. As boorish of a pig as he was, and as bad as he probably would have been in bed, he now seemed like the sensible choice in hi
