Page 227 of Ruthless Court

“I’m sorry.”

Her hand rests on the doorknob.

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

She looks back.

“Then don’t make her feel like I do right now.”

The door opens.

She steps into the suite and closes it behind her.

I stand alone in the bright room, heart still hammering from waking with the wrong woman in my bed.

The sheets smell like her perfume now.

Jasmine and orchids.

Nothing like Hannah.

I strip the bed.

Every sheet.

Both pillowcases.

I dump them in the hamper, open the window, and let cold night air push through the room.

Then I check the lock twice.

My phone remains facedown on the nightstand.

I pick it up.

One new message.

Hannah: Thank you for tonight. And for the snacks. Don’t make it weird.

I stare at it.

Then type:

Me: Too late.

Her response comes a minute later.

Hannah: That sounds threatening.

I sit on the bare mattress.

Me: Go to sleep, Footnote.

Three dots appear.

Hannah: Still hate that nickname.

I smile.

Me: I know.

I put the phone beside me and lie back without sheets.

The room is cold now.

Good.

I need the air.

Krista was right about one thing.

Hannah makes me work for every inch.

For the first time, I don’t resent it.