The room was dark when something shifted in the hallway.
I woke to Nathan’s arm tightening around my waist, pulling me back against his chest so abruptly that my breath caught. His heartbeat was already racing.
“Nathan?” I whispered.
“Stay still,” he murmured, voice low, vibrating against my shoulder.
A soft thud echoed outside the door.
Nathan lifted his head, nostrils flaring.
Another sound followed, like something brushing the wall.
He pressed his mouth to my ear. “Someone is in the hall.”
“Fantastic,” I breathed. “If we die, just know I regret nothing except letting you choose the pillows.”
He made a sound that might have been a snort if he was not seconds from shifting.
“Margot,” he whispered, “not now.”
“What? I am processing fear through sarcasm. It is healthy.”
He pulle
