Harper
I don’t think he’s serious. I really don’t. Until I see his eyes darken.
“Oh shit.” I scramble over to the other side of the bed, putting it between me and Tomás.
“Cariña, I’m not going to duct tape you to the bed,” he sighs.
“Uh-huh. I don’t believe you,” I respond, still keeping the bed between us.
Tomás rolls his eyes. “I would have used something far less abrasive.”
“What?” I yell.
“I’m kidding. But if me standing here will keep you from trying to leave the apartment, all the better,” he says.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re on, Profe.”
With a slight smile, he stands in front of the door with his arms crossed. “And just what do you think you can do?”
He’s not Rafe, so he’s not built like a football player, but that doesn’t mean he’s some skinny little thing either. H
