“Are you still drunk?” I blurted out.
“I am not.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, looking for signs that he was, in fact, wasted.
But he was clear-eyed, steady on his feet, and entirely too composed to be trashed.
So just… crazy then.
Great.
That was just great.
I married a lunatic.
“I… can’t do this,” I grumbled, looking around for my heels from the night before and slipping them on.
The immediate pain let me know that I’d worn them way, way longer than I’d intended the night before.
What the hell had happened after we got out of bed?
I didn’t know.
But I needed to piece it together.
“Layna…”
There was a soft plea in Harrison’s voice that I promptly ignored as I located my bag of chips that I must have been carrying around like a damn purse the night before, then made my way to the door.
“Don’t follow me,” I growled, throwing the door open, and walking into the hallway.
Did I slam the door?
Yeah, I did.
Then I stormed to the private elevator and took it down to my floor.
Only, when I got to my door, I didn’t have my damn keycard.
Or phone.
Or anything at all except a ton of poker chips.
I pressed my forehead to my door and let out a whimper.
“Been there,” someone said as they passed.
Okay.
It was okay.
I could fix… all of this.
But first… coffee.
CHAPTER FOUR
I walked up to the cashier, dropping a pile of my chips in front of her.
