Chapter 8

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By the time I made it back to the hotel, my back and feet were killing me. I said goodbye to Dillon and the guys, leaving them behind in the lobby. Making a quick stop at the receptionist's desk, I grabbed my key card. Minutes later, I made my way to the room Myrla and I were assigned to.

I kicked off my shoes once I stepped through the room's doors. The luxurious accommodations were nothing like what I was used to back home. Though I wanted nothing more than to admire the beautiful furnishings, I yearned for a warm shower before diving into bed. The sudden urge for both of those things overrode anything else on my mind. I walked down the hall and made my way toward the bathroom. In the process of shrugging off my shirt , the sound of someone knocking on the door echoed in the distance.

"I'll be right there," I said, groaning with dismay before tugging the shirt back on.

I trudged down the hall and came to a stop in front of the door, pulling it open to find Dillon standing in front of me. "What are you doing here?"

He raised his left arm and held out a bottle of Absolut Vodka. "I thought you'd like to share a nightcap with me."

I snorted with derision and pursed my lips. "Do I look like someone who drinks?"

A sheepish expression spread across his face. "Well, no, but—"

I took a step back and let go of the door. "Good night, Dillon."

He stuck his foot out, preventing the door from swinging closed. "Can I get a kiss good night at least?"


"But Chance—"

"Are you out of your mind?"

Dillon grinned. "Maybe just a little."

My mouth dropped open with an audible pop. Gathering a hold of my composure, I shook my head and said, "You shouldn't be here."

He smirked and pushed past me. "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

Dillon strode in the direction of the large loveseat. He set the bottle down on the coffee table and sat down, leaning back against the sofa's cushions.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

He curled his arms beneath his head. His eyes focused on me.

"So I've been told."

Annoyed, I growled and slammed the door closed. I remained where I was standing.

"You have your own room. Can't you crash there?"

Dillon glanced in my direction. "You don't want me here?"

I crossed my arms upon my chest. "Does it look like I do?"

"No, but—"

"It's late, and I'm tired. I'm not up for getting into an argument with you right now."

His hazel eyes narrowed. "Why not?" he quipped. "It sounds like it'd be fun."

"Fun? You're kidding, right?"

His face was devoid of emotion. "No."

I reached up to rub the bridge of my nose between a thumb and forefinger. "You need to go."

A muscle twitched along his lower jaw. With reluctance, he stood and shook his head.

"I was hoping—"

"That I'd let you spend the night?"

His face turned red. "Well—"

"You might be used to getting your own way, but I'm not that kind of girl, Dillon. Don't get me wrong, I love your company. It's just—"

"I get it. You don't have to tell me twice," he said, marching over to where I stood.

Without uttering another word, he nodded at me and yanked the door open before walking out of the room. The door slammed close behind him with a resounding thud.

I turned and leaned against it. I'd pissed him off, but I didn't regret doing so. The man needed to learn that not everything was easy to get. Granted, he made me want to let go of my inhibitions and dive right into whatever he wanted, but I couldn't do it. Not now. Not ever.

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