Fallon
I woke up to the sound of water running.
For a second, I forgot where I was. The sheets were softer, the air cooler, the bed way too spacious—until I turned and saw Reid’s side still perfectly made.
Right. The hotel. The shared suite.
I sighed, stretching beneath the covers before rolling over and grabbing my phone. The time read 7:23 AM, and I briefly debated pulling the blankets over my head and pretending the morning didn’t exist.
But then the bathroom door opened, and Reid stepped out.
Dripping wet.
Towel slung low on his hips.
Completely, unfairly, ridiculously Reid.
My brain short-circuited.
“You’re awake,” he noted, rubbing another towel through his damp hair, seemingly unaware—or worse, unaffected—by my obvious staring.
I blinked, then cleared my throat. “Unfortun
