I closed the door behind me, my mind still buzzing with the lingering embarrassment and annoyance from dinner.
The tension was almost tangible, and I could still feel Zaya's gaze on me, her eyes sharp and unbothered, like she was enjoying every moment of watching me squirm in that soaked shirt.
As I walked toward my suitcase, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd been too harsh, brushing off her offer to help me clean up.
But then I remembered her mocking tone, the way she'd pointed out my transparency literally and figuratively with that infuriating smirk. She'd crossed a line.
Still, I wasn't about to let her actions get under my skin. This was Zaya we were talking about. She made it a point to keep her distance, to stay cool and unaffected, especially around me. I'd be damned if I let her get the better of me.