The window in Rule’s bedroom—in their bedroom—faced the bed, and the drapes were open. Water blurred the glass. The smeared shimmer of city lights outside fit well with the washed-clean feel of Lily’s body, as if all her edges were blurred, too. Her fingers tingled. Rule’s hand sifted slowly through her hair. The apartment was on the top floor, high enough that the loss of privacy was more symbolic than real; Lily was getting used to it. At the moment, curled into Rule’s body, warm and drowsy with the aftermath of passion, it didn’t bother her at all. She stirred, unready for sleep. “This morning I notified the manager at my place that I’m not renewing my lease.” His hand stilled—then brushed the hair from her face so he could press a kiss on her temple. “Good.” “We have to talk about how we’re going to split expenses here.” “Mmm. Do we have to talk about it now?”
