Chapter 9
Brett grabbed breakfast and went back to their—his—room. The average sized hotel room now seemed cavernous and empty. He was tempted to try yodeling to see if there was an echo.
He pulled out his phone and checked for any message from Rylan. Blowing out a harsh breath, Brett tossed the phone onto the bed.
“He’s probably on the plane. No texts or calls allowed. I’ll be lucky if he sends me anything. I don’t blame him for being pissed. I’m pissed at myself.”
Brett took the envelope of receipts and dropped it onto the bed. If Rylan was an addiction, maybe this was what withdrawal was like.
“Remember what happened to the other people you needed. Don’t get too attached, don’t need him.” Except he already did need Rylan and he’d likely use a much stronger word than attached to des
