40
Those fifteen minutes last a joyful hour, blotting out broken necks and dead fathers and murderous mercenaries, but eventually Deke and I have to untangle ourselves.
The world has become a little better place. Even this awful hotel room, with its scorched-drug miasma and walls that are only clean because of brutally layered all-forgiving gray paint, isn’t nearly as terrible as it had been. The Jeopardy theme blaring through the wall of Will’s room drowns out the outside noises.
I pull my shirt on. “He’s got that TV awful loud.”
Deke’s tying his boot laces. “Do you think we bothered him?”
“We were quiet. The bed didn’t even break.”
“Huh.” He tugs his shirt over those caressable abs. Regret twinges in my chest. “I was trying to make you scream.”
My belt clicks into place. “Me? You
