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“I should probably go,” I said, my voice soft.

“Let me get you a plate of food to take home.”

He wanted to take care of me.

That was really, really sweet.

But way too mate-like. I couldn’t let him think I was interested in a relationship. He had a fated mate out there somewhere—and I did too. Neither of us would be able to stay together if we met our mate.

And even if we didn’t, I wasn’t interested in a mate bond.

So as much as I hated saying no, I had to turn him down.

“I’ve got leftovers,” I murmured. “Thank you, though.”

He nodded a bit stiffly, but grabbed my shoes off the floor and my bag off the couch for me. The bag went over his shoulder, and the shoes in his hand.

His free hand found my lower back and led me toward the door.

The simple, gentle touch made me ache to ask if I could stay the night. Or if he wanted to come home with me.

But that was a bad idea.

A terrible idea.

So I didn’t.

I did, however, lean against him as he walked me home.

And kiss him on my doorstep. His mouth tasted like me, and that made my toes curl.

When he released my mouth, he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip. It felt a little swollen.

His voice was low and gravelly. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Working,” I whispered.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

He knew where I worked, and when I got off.

“That depends,” I finally said. “Do you have sex on the second date?”

“With you, I do.”

My lips curved upward. “Will it be as good as tonight?”

“It’ll be better, Sienna.”

My lower belly tightened. “Pick me up at five.”

His chest rumbled. “Four.”

My smile widened. “Three-thirty.”

He kissed me again, harder. His tongue tangled with mine, and the taste of my pleasure made me so damn excited for the next day. “I’ll see you then. Get some sleep, Si.”

“You too.”