It took Kade a whole three days to get out of bed and be productive. One slip up with Ravyn and he was back to being his old self—if he’d ever changed to begin with.
He groaned, dragging a pillow over his face as sunlight filtered through the blinds. His room smelled faintly of whiskey and stale regret. Clothes littered the floor—jeans, a shirt, a jacket he didn’t remember taking off. The sound of his own breathing annoyed him.
“f**k,” he muttered for the fourth time that morning.
It was all he seemed capable of saying lately.
The door creaked open. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. Only one person in the world had the nerve to break into his room like she owned the place.
“Are you seriously still in bed?” Esther’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and disapproving.
Kade
