.... RILEY....
*****
By the time I got into the Knight's mansion, my arms were screaming from carrying two overstuffed grocery bags, and my soul felt about the same.
I dumped everything on the counter and exhaled. “Okay,” I muttered to no one. “Groceries, check. Emotional damage, check. Sanity… questionable.”
Then my phone pinged. I ignored it. I’d had enough human interaction for one day — especially after surviving my mother’s matchmaking circus.
But another ping sounded. Then another.
With a groan, I fished the phone out of my pocket. The screen glowed with a name that made my stomach turn.
It was Toby Sinclair.
The urge to delete his number was overpowering, but curiosity won, though — because apparently, I hate myself.
I opened the text.
> Toby: Got something special com
