Morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the hotel room in muted tones of gold and cream. I stirred, blinking against the softness of the morning, and stretched lazily, half-expecting the sound of Zaya shuffling around the room.
But there was nothing.
I rolled onto my side, my gaze falling on her bed. It was empty, the covers neatly pulled back, no sign of her anywhere.
A sigh escaped my lips as I sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair. Of course, she'd left early. Avoiding me, no doubt. I couldn't blame her, not after how tense things had been last night.
How the heck did I had so much confidence, was I drunk without drinking or simply to stupid to know my action had consequences.
Still, a part of me itched to know what she would've said if we hadn't been interrupted. Were we about to kiss again? The thought sent my heart skittering.
