AMARIS
The door still smelled like him.
That was the first thing. Not morning. Not the ceiling. Just the faint trace of Ryker still on the wood from where he had pressed me against it for twenty minutes and taken me apart before he kissed my forehead and left.
I was still in the same spot. Back against the door, feet cold on the floor, dress somewhere I did not entirely remember dropping it. My body still warm. The back of my head still against the wood. I had been standing here for a while and had made no progress toward stopping and was going to acknowledge that to no one.
He had said it was too risky to stay. Someone would see him leaving in the morning. The pack was watching everything and this was not the moment to hand them something to work with.
