Chapter 17
KAYLA
Wednesday evening
“Kayla!” Deacon calls over my shoulder. “Kayla, slow down a sec. Just f*****g wait.”
“No thanks, Deacon.” I reply, rushing towards the elevator. “I’m really tired.”
“Yeah, you seem like it, Jesse Owens. This isn’t a race.”
“Then stop following me.”
“You’re angry,” he calls out as I head farther into the hotel lobby.
“I’m not angry!”
“Then why are you yelling?”
I whirl on him, right in front of the elevator bank. “I’m not yelling!”
“Yeah, because that’s the normal volume of your voice.” He stops just as I stop. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing.” I say, crossing my arms, suddenly aware of the noise we’re making in the swank, overly expensive entrance hall. I lower my voice. “I just thought that I might see if you wanted that nightcap. I knoc
