Kayla
The room smelled like him.
That was one of the first things I noticed when I opened my eyes to the soft glow of the early morning light filtering through the sheer curtains. I stayed there for a moment, still buried under the thick blankets, trying and failing to shake off the lingering haze of sleep.
But the scent wrapped around me before I could even wake up fully—warm, musky, and unmistakably Nicholas.
I frowned, glancing over at the empty side of the bed, where the sheets were still neatly unmade and the pillow was left untouched.
He hadn’t been here last night. I knew that. Nicholas didn’t sleep in this room when I was in it. Hell, I doubted he had even walked past it since the country club incident two days ago, and he was even more unlikely to enter after
