When we wake again, sticky with dried sweat and sore body parts, the sun is higher in the sky and it’s not an alarm that pulls me from my stupor—it’s the door. Someone is knocking. Persistently.
“Sam … Sam, someone’s at the door.” He stirs but pulls me tighter into his side. “Sam, I gotta answer the door. They won’t stop knocking.”
“What time is it? It’s probably housekeeping. Maybe we slept through checkout.”
I untangle my legs from his and push off his bare chest, scooting to the edge of the bed to grab one of the fluffy, hotel robes, so long it almost reaches the top of my feet. What a surprise.
“One sec,” I say, quickly rinsing with mouthwash and pulling my very matted hair to one side. My hand on the doorknob, I fully expect it to be Nikki waiting to pounce.
“Good morning, Ms. Ha
