I don't know why his eyes did what they did to me.
It wasn't something I could reason my way out of. One look from across the room and my entire body registered him before my brain had a chance to weigh in. I clocked the cigarette between his fingers, the amber glass of whiskey on the table, the way he didn't seem remotely surprised to see me standing in his doorway.
"Can I help you, Eva?"
Low. Unhurried. My name in his voice was a problem I hadn't found a solution for yet.
"I got lost," I said, keeping my voice level. "I was trying to find my room."
He brought the cigarette to his lips, held my gaze through the exhale, and let the smoke go slowly. "Do you want me to help you find it?"
My brain, apparently no longer on my side, immediately produced a very detailed image of what that
