After the banquet, all I want is a hot shower, my bed, and thirty minutes without my phone buzzing.
But clearly, bad luck was still following me.
Instead, when the car drops me off and I walk toward my building, a figure steps out from the shadows near the entrance. Of course. Landon.
He’s leaning against the wall like he owns it, arms crossed, jaw tense. The streetlight casts hard lines across his face.
“What do you want?” I ask wearily. “Didn’t get enough humiliation for one night?”
He pushes off the wall and strides toward me. “What is your relationship with Arthur?”
There is no greeting, no pretense. Just instant interrogation.
“It’s none of your business,” I say. “Move.”
He blocks my path. “He doesn’t take women seriously. You’re just another distraction to him. He’ll use you
