Milo opened his eyes. He startled.
The ceiling was unfamiliar.
He blinked twice, then sat up quickly. The blanket slid off his lap. He looked around the room, at the dim light coming through the curtains, at the large bed he was lying in, and it all hit him at once.
Salvatore's room.
He had fallen asleep here.
Milo pressed both hands to his face. He had no idea how long he'd been out. He assumed Salvatore hadn't come back yet, probably still dealing with Felix downstairs. That was the only reason he'd let himself close his eyes for just a moment.
He reached up and touched his forehead. There was something there. He pulled it off and held it in front of him. A fever patch.
He stared at it.
Had Salvatore put this on him?
Milo set it carefully on the nightstand and slipped off the bed. His feet touched the floor quietly. He straightened his shirt and moved toward the curtain.
He needed to leave before the man came back and found him still here as if he owned the place.
