I pick up the room service menu and flip it open, but the words blur together. My mind keeps circling the same questions I don’t know the answers to.
Does he expect more tonight? Do I? Am I ready for more? Was I okay because my clothes were still on?
“Stop overthinking, Seraphina.”
I glance up, scowling. “Why do you insist on calling me that?”
“Because it’s a beautiful name,” he says simply. “And it fits you.” His mouth quirks. “Did you know it meansburning one?”
“That’s not what my mother said,” I scoff. “She said it meant angel.”
“It does,” he agrees. “I looked it up. Seraphim are angels of fire.”
He looked up the meaning of my name?
I fidget, suddenly unsure of how that makes me feel.
“Just get me the chicken sandwich,” I mutter, grabbing my pajamas and retreating to the bathroom.
My phone buzzes from where I’ve left it on charge, as I wait for the water to warm.
Hannah: Saw a pic of you from last night on one of the celeb sites. You looked hot in a bad ass kind of way.
My lips quirk.
Me: Thanks. Not sure how bad ass a blazer is though.
Hannah: You totally made it work lol
Hannah: There’s a good pic of that guy you’re with too. Pepper emoji. I am now even more in favor of operation drop the towel.
I chew my lip for a second. Liev did look hot in his suit. Swallowing my embarrassment, I type out,
Me: Which site was it on?
The dots appear like she’s typing but then disappear again.
The mirror is beginning to fog, so I climb in the shower not waiting for her reply.
Though I take longer than normal in the shower, it’s not long enough to explain the obvious mood shift when I step back into the hotel room.
Liev is standing near the bed, phone pressed to his ear, his body angled slightly away from me. Even from behind, I can see the tension in him, the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his jaw works as if he’s grinding his teeth.
“No,” he growls. “You don’t get to demand anything.”
There’s a pause. He listens, pivoting back toward me. I see his eyes narrow, and his free hand curling slowly into a fist at his side.
“I don’t give a fuck about that. If something is wrong, you need to tell me.”
An icy premonition washes over me.
His posture changes, the aggression draining out of him all at once, and I realize he sees me.
“She just walked in.” He catches my eye. “It’s Brady.”
He holds the phone out to me but doesn’t move away. Instead, he stays close, angled so I can see the tight line of his mouth, the crease between his brows.
Whatever Brady said, Liev isn’t happy about it.
