"Ms. Kovac? Guest services. Your room is ready."
My stomach drops. Oh, right… I had a reservation once upon a time–ten days ago to be exact. Before I ended up in a hot tub with Luka’s mouth on my skin and his fingers making me come.
I slide out of bed, grabbing my phone to see the sticky note Luka left:
Good Morning
Went to the gym
–L
I smile at seeing his scrawl on the yellow sticky note and the fact that he thought to leave it for me. I wrap the sheet around myself before padding toward the door.
When I crack it open, a young attendant stands there with a polite smile and a key card resting on a small silver tray.
"Apologies for the early hour. We were able to prepare it sooner than expected. The airport is back open, and some guests have gotten flights out."
I take the card with the hesitation that I shouldn’t feel. I should be relieved.
"Thank you."
The door shut quietly behind me.
I stand there for a long moment, staring at the rectangle of plastic in my hand. I could go back to bed, pretend that this card never came, but last night we both agreed to one time. My professional career demands that I keep to that promise, and even if I wanted things to be different, I’ve seen enough evidence that Luka Popovich doesn’t stay.
There’s one thing I can still salvage… still hold onto—my job. That is if I stop climbing into hot tubs with hockey playboys and get real about what I am here to do.
He’s made it abundantly clear over the last few days. No one can hold on to him because he doesn’t want them to.
I look back toward the bedroom.
For a reckless second, I considered going back. Sliding back under the blankets and letting myself have one more hour of something that feels dangerously like belonging to a man whobelongs to nothing and no one. That feels like a heartbreak waiting to happen.
Instead, I gather my clothes, toothbrush, and everything else I can find and zip up my rolling bag. He agreed to let me stay on the grounds that I had nowhere else to go. It feels almost deceptive not to take the hotel room now that it’s being offered, giving him back his space.
I make the bed and leave a sticky note of my own:
Thank you for giving me a safe place to stay.
The room I checked into on the third floor is fine, but it’s empty, and it smells like bleach and not him.
I dropped my things, changed into a sports bra, sweatshirt and yoga pants and headed for the yoga studio. I need to clear my head and get back to what I came here for.
To save my career.
LUKA
I leave the gym with my hoodie half-zipped and my hair still damp from the locker room shower, letting the cold outside hit me. It should reset me. It usually does. Routine has always been the thing that keeps my head quiet.
Today it doesn’t.
Because this time, something is different.
There is weight on my chest. A warm, soft body pressed against my side. The faint scent of whatever shampoo Natalia uses—clean, not floral enough to be annoying—hit me before my eyes fully adjusted to the dark.
She was asleep on my shoulder.
Not sprawled out, taking up more space than she needed. Just… there, like she belonged in my bed, like it was normal tohave a woman’s breathing sync with mine while her hand rested against my ribs as if she reached for me in her sleep and found me.
