Page 62 of Shattered Crown
"What are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "Same thing you are."
"I'm not doing research. I'm exploring."
"Is there a difference?"
He stepped into the room and shut the door. I was acutely aware of how tiny the room was. He clasped his hands behind his back, and began a slow circuit of the space. He stopped near me. Close. Too close. I could smell his cologne beneath the dust, that same woodsy scent that had started invading my dreams.
Then he moved past me, circling toward the photographs on the wall, examining them like artifacts in a museum.
Something about the way he moved set my teeth on edge. I took a step back. "You need to leave."
"I have every right to be here."
"Fine." I turned toward the door. "Then I'll leave. There are plenty of other places to explore."
I grabbed the handle and pulled.
Nothing happened.
I pulled harder. The handle turned, but the door didn't budge.
"What the hell?"
Sebastian was beside me in two strides. He shouldered me aside—not roughly, but firmly—and tried the handle himself. Twisted. Pulled. Nothing.
"It's stuck." His jaw tightened. "The wood must have swelled. This part of the hotel hasn't been maintained in years."
He stepped back and threw his shoulder against the door. The impact echoed through the small room, but the door didn't move.
He tried again. And again. Each hit harder than the last, his face growing redder with effort, the tendons in his neck standing out.
I watched him struggle. A small, petty part of me enjoyed it. Sebastian Dubois, master of the universe, defeated by a swollen door frame.
The rest of me was slowly realizing what this meant.
We were trapped.
Together.
In a tiny room with nothing but a covered bed and decades of dust and no way out. The kiss flashed through my mind. Nope. No way. I had to get out of here right this minute before I did something stupid.
I pulled out my phone. No signal. Of course. I laughed. It came out slightly hysterical. Sebastian checked his own phone. His expression confirmed what I already knew.
"Someone will come looking eventually," he said. "When we miss dinner."
"That's five hours from now."
Five hours. In this room. No escape. No distractions. Nothing but each other and all the things we'd been pretending didn't exist. I moved to the bed and sat on the edge. Dust puffed up around me, tickling my nose. I didn't care. My legs wouldn't hold me anymore.
"This is a nightmare."
Sebastian leaned against the opposite wall, as far from me as the small room allowed. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"It's not ideal. But it's not the worst situation."
"Not ideal?" I stared at him. "We're trapped in a closet."
