Sam stared at the ceiling, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She hadn’t slept again after Thane left, not really. She had drifted in and out, tangled in the sheets that still smelled faintly of oakmoss and leather, her mind replaying Ronan’s touch in cruel, vivid detail.
He’s just a means to an end, Samsa.
Thane’s words echoed in her head, banging off the inside of her skull like ricocheting gunshots. A reminder that she wasn’t supposed to like Ronan. That he wasn’t supposed to be so sweet and gentle.
The phone buzzed, making her flinch.
Ronan: Morning, angel. Did you get any sleep after I left?
Her chest squeezed painfully at the word angel. He said it so easily with no idea that she was basically the opposite.
Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard. What was she supposed to s
