Me:*heart hands* Talk to you when I get home.
Sloan: *kissy face emoji*
Margot: *heart emoji*
Just as Iset my phone back on the table, there’s a knock at the door.
Room service.
My stomach growls as I roll off the mattress and head for the closet for a robe.
I cinch the tie and pull the door open at the same time.
But my huge welcoming smile dies almost immediately. Killed by shock.
“Oh. Miss Riley.”
“Good morning, Mr. Albright.” I look at the other brother. “And Mr. Albright.”
What the fuck are they doing here?Here? At Everett’s hotel room?
“We weren’t expecting you.”
Yeah, obviously. This is going to be a problem.
Dammit.
“I wasn’t expecting you either.” I gesture down my body, indicating my robe, then give them a sheepish smile. “Was Everett expecting you?”
Surely not. He would’ve warned me.
Conner Albright shakes his head. “No. We haven’t been able to get ahold of him. He’s not answering his phone. But we spoke with Graham this morning. We wanted them to know that we already got all of the paperwork drawn up.” He waves the manila envelope in his hand.
Oh, damn. That’s amazing.
Gage Albright gives me a disapproving look. “We were very excited after our meeting last night.”
Were. Crap. They’re using the past tense.
“That’s so great to hear.” I pull the belt on my robe tighter. “Everett just went down to grab some coffee from the corner stand. He’ll be right back.”
“Graham thought it would be fine if we just stopped by,” Conner says. “He said Everett would be excited to see us and the paperwork.”
I nod and resist the urge to tighten my belt further. It doesn’t need it, and it is a sure sign that I’m nervous. Because I fucking am.
“He will be. Absolutely.”
Gage frowns. “Miss Riley. What are you doing here? And without any clothes on?”
I like a person who will get straight to the point. I sigh. Obviously, he knows the answer. He just wants to hear me say it. Or confirm it.
“I spent the night with Everett last night.” I lift my chin and meet his gaze. There’s no reason to lie about it. It is what happened, and they clearly know it.
It’s none of their business, but I’m also not going to deny the obvious when he’s asked me directly.
“Last night you told us, point-blank, to our faces, with Mr. Clark right next to you, that you are not involved romantically.”
“Yes. And that was true last night.” I wince, though. It wasn’tcompletelytrue. We weren’t sleeping together last night, but we were romantically involved. We were in love with one another.
