Liev is sittingin the chair by the window, when I return. He’s changed into athletic shorts and a sleeveless shirt, making the tension twitching his inked shoulders easy to see.
He looks up the second the door closes.
“We’re fine,” I blurt out. “Promise. But I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”
His dark eyes study my face. His jaw tightens, and for a second, it looks like he’s going to argue.
“Okay.”
“Go get your workout,” I say lightly. “I’ll shower and keep an ear out.”
He hesitates, then his shoulders drop before he reaches for his room key and… leaves.
I close my eyes.
Please don’t let me have ruined it.
The thought lands like a blow.
He has to see it now—how fucked up I am.If last night wasn’t enough, my reaction this morning must be a flashing neon sign.
Whatever he thought he was getting out of this, it can’t possibly be worth the hassle.
No one signs up for this long-term.
I force the tears back, and press the heel of my hand hard into my sternum
Get it together. This isn’t new.
This is just… reality.
Keke is up earlierthan I expected and already throwing a wrench in the day’s logistics when I hear the door to our adjoining room thud. Liev’s back.
Thirty minutes later, there’s a knock on the cracked adjoining door. I open it further, a finger to my lips and a phone pressed to my ear.
“Yes… no windows and just the one egress.”
Vincent agrees the change of venue is satisfactory, and I end the call and step into our hotel room.
Liev crosses his arms across his chest, and I momentarily forget what I was about to say. Wearing a black button-down shirt and dark jeans, he looks… delicious.
I school my face into something neutral, even as my body betrays me with a rush of remembered sensation.
Damn it.
“What’s going on?”
“Keke doesn’t want to do the interviews in her room anymore,” I explain. “I’ve secured one of the smaller conference rooms downstairs.”
As the day goes on, I watch Keke cycle through four different interviewers. I can’t lie, it’s not what I’d call a good time, but with Liev stationed outside the door, it means I am able to put off any awkward conversation with him.
While Keke answers questions, I check my texts. There are several from Hannah from the night before and this morning. Each makes me more concerned. Her ex-boyfriend showed up last night at her door, and when she didn’t answer, he made so much noise the police were called.
Me: Are you safe?
Hannah: Yeah. He took off before the cops got here. I just feel kind of bad. He was crying.
My lips press into a firm line as I type.
