Page 41 of Stupid Matchmaking Love

“What’s what?”

He reappears, holding a card. “Looks like we’ll be having dinner at six thirty downstairs in the restaurant.”

“Just us?”

“Unless you’d like to bring a third wheel.”

“Actually . . .”

He smirks. “That was a joke, Cristina.”

“I know, Rhett.”

Our eyes meet and I smile tightly. “Tell you what—I’m just gonna lock this door so you’re not tempted to come in.”

“Don’t worry about me. Temptation isn’t the issue.”

His voice dips lower, and something sharp blooms behind my ribs. A flicker crosses his face, gone before I can name it.

Don’t worry about him because temptation isn’t the issue? Am I so awful? Ugly? Repulsive? Extra?

His words sink deep like a whisper. But he’s right. We’re not here to win. We’re here to lose.

And that’s what I plan to do.

He steps out of sight, and I close my side of the adjoining door and lock it.

I turn around to start unpacking when I hear a snick.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see the lock has unlocked itself.

What the . . . ?

“Oh, no, resort. We’re not gonna have the whole pulsing lights and locking-doors thing again. You’re gonna lock and stay locked.”

The resort lights haven’t pulsed since the night I met Rhett—in fact, no lights have, which tells me I’m not magical and that night was a fluke. A really weird, unsettling fluke that had more to do with the resort than with me.

And here the resort goes again, making mischief.

I slide the lock into place and pull the Bitty Being of me—the one I usually keep in my work belt—from my suitcase.

How did it get in here?

Snick.

A prickle runs up my arms. “Okay, this isn’t funny anymore. Whoever’s doing this, can you please just let this door lock?”

After latching it one more time, I stare at the lock, waiting for it to move. When a minute or two passes by and nothing happens, I turn around again and place the Bitty Being on the nightstand.

If the magic wants her here, she’ll stay.

Snick.

That’s it. I give up.

I won’t be able to lock my door. Fine. Just fine. To keep Rhett from coming in—not that he would—I grab a chair and wedge it under the knob like I’ve seen done in countless movies.

There. That should keep me safe.