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“I know we can’t go back to…” He raises his eyebrows, suggesting a romantic relationship. “But what do you say we try this friend thing again?”

I don’t answer right away, enjoying watching him squirm. “Yeah, okay. But Noah, you are friend-zoned so hard.”

He smiles a little. “Did you close the gate this time?”

“I not only closed it—I padlocked it.”

“I missed you.”

Out of nowhere, my eyes become misty. I look away, refusing to get emotional, and blink quickly. “I sort of missed you, too.”

“You never cashed the last check I sent.”

“That’s because you’re not renting a room from me anymore.”

“I signed an agreement—wasn’t it a six-month contract?”

“Yeah, but you breached it when I found out you had fangs.”

He chuckles softly. “I don’t remember that being in our terms.”

I lean forward and whisper, “I don’t need your charity rent.”

His smile morphs into a smirk. “I need a place to stay while I’m selling my house in Denver.”

If that’s not a bad idea, I don’t know what is.

“Stay in your parents’ basement, cool guy.”

“Come on. You like having company, and I don’t want to explain Roku to my mom again.”

I try not to smile. “Max has a spare bedroom that I’m sure he’d be happy to lease out.”

He gives me a puppy dog look that absolutely should not be legal. “Come on, Pip.”

“Donotcall me that.” I point at him so he’ll know I mean business. “You’re not moving back in. No. It’s not happening.”

“I need to replace that lightbulb,”Noah says when he flicks the switch and one of the recessed overhead lights in the spare bedroom doesn’t turn on.

I watch as he wheels in a large suitcase and leaves it next to the bed, accepting my lack of willpower. Last time, Noah only brought a duffel bag. This time, it’s obvious he intends to stay awhile.

I’ve knowingly let a vampire boarder into my house—one I’m stupidly attracted to.

Two bites, and I’m in trouble.

My mind wanders to places it shouldn’t go, and a shiver travels down my spine. And not a bad shiver. A pleasant one.

This isn’t good.

Vampires are gross,I remind myself.Gross.

Noah steps onto the bed and stretches his arms over his head to unscrew the light bulb. His shirt travels up, exposing his ribbed abdomen.

So gross, my brain insists.You definitely don’t want to lick him.

I shake myself and turn back to the hall. “I’ll see if I have any new bulbs.”

“If you do, grab one for the front porch,” Noah calls as I head down the stairs. “I noticed it was out, too.”