Chapter Thirty-Two
The exact fraction of a second the heavy wooden bedroom door finally closed behind our bodies, isolating us from the suffocating toxic atmosphere of the clubhouse, Stone turned the brass deadbolt lock with a loud, distinct, and incredibly heavy click. He stood perfectly still in front of the door frame for a long, quiet second, his massive back completely turned away from me, his broad shoulders tightly hunched up with a suffocating amount of lingering tension from the dining hall battle.
I walked up quietly behind his towering frame and wrapped my small arms tightly around his thick waist, pressing my flushed cheek flat against the hard muscle of his back, breathing in his comforting scent of leather and cedar wood.
“I am so incredibly sorry, Stone,” I whispered out
