I turn toward the hotel, but my steps drag, each one heavier than the last. And when I dare a glance over my shoulder, he’s still there, hands in his pockets, watching me go.
It’s not until I disappear inside that I let out the breath I’d been holding—because the thought of never seeing him again doesn’t feel small. It feels like a door closing that I wasn’t even ready to walk through.
Chapter 3
Ivy
The elevator lurches upward, a slow crawl that feels like it’s carrying me straight into some kind of heartbreak I didn’t see coming.
I lean back against the cool metal wall, palms damp, my pulse still pounding in my ears. Holy moly.
I didn’t get his number.
I don’t know his last name.
I don’t know where he lives.
The realization hits in waves, each one a little sharper, a little more ridiculous. My hands curl into fists at my sides, not because I’m angry—though maybe I should be—but because I feel unsteady. Like I’ve just been handed a rare book and told I have to give it back before I’ve even read the first chapter.
What was I thinking? That we’d just…magically cross paths again?
The elevator dings, jolting me back to reality. I step out, moving down the hallway at a snail’s pace as I approach the room I share with my two best friends.
I stop in front of the door, key card in hand.
I’m not ready. Not ready to see Harper’s raised brows or Olivia’s knowing smirk. Not ready to relive every detail while they dissect it like a true crime podcast.
And yet…
I press my forehead to the door for just a second, letting the weight of the day settle in my chest. Because as much as I want to hide, I need them. I need the comfort of their voices, the easy banter, the way they can make even my worst day feel like an inside joke worth telling.
Taking a breath, I swipe the card, the green light flashing, and push the door open.
Two heads snap toward me instantly, like I’ve just walked into a press conference.
Harper—her long, bright red hair practically glowing under the warm hotel lighting—nearly trips over a half-zipped suitcase as she scrambles off the bed. She’s all urgency and momentum, like she’s been pacing the walls waiting for me.
Olivia moves slower, more deliberate. Her sleek blonde hair is tucked behind one ear, her expression calm but her eyes…they’re searching. Eager. Like she wants every single detail, but she’s willing to wait until I’m ready to give it.
Harper gets to me first.
“What happened? Where’d you go? Was it good? Was he nice? Did you talk about anything important? Did you laugh? Did you?—”
“Harper.” My voice is half-laugh, half-breathless as I lift my hands in surrender. “Slow down.”
But I can’t keep up with her questions. The words blur together, buzzing in my ears until something slips past my guard—a tear I didn’t even feel coming, sliding down my cheek.
That’s when Olivia reaches me. She brushes the tearaway gently with her thumb, her touch cool and steady in a way that makes my chest ache.
“Come on,” she says softly.
They each grab an arm, steering me toward the bed until I’m collapsing backward with a muted thump. The mattress dips beneath me, their knees pressing into the edge as they lean in, two different energies wrapped around the same unshakable love—Harper’s effervescent fire and Olivia’s quiet anchor.
And just like that, the dam starts to crack.
The hot water pours over me, streaming down my neck and shoulders in steady rivulets, but it does nothing to wash away the ache in my chest. Steam thickens the air, curling around me until the world beyond the glass feels far away. I brace my palms against the cool tile, head bowed, eyes closed.
And then I’m not in the hotel shower anymore. I’m back in that charged moment when Gray’s fingers slid under my chin, tilting my face up. His touch was barely there, yet it pinned me in place, left me nowhere to hide. I can still feel the warmth of his skin, the quiet command in his gaze—like he could see past every defense I’ve ever built.
