“I told you why.”
“You’re guessing, but you don’t know for sure.”
He wasn’t letting this drop. Mr. Nice Guy was also a Good Samaritan.
An idea popped into her head. “How about if you text me?”
He chuckled from deep in his throat and a boyish gleam lit his eyes. “You’re sleeping three doors down.”
“It could be fun. And you don’t have to be disturbed.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll text you. I’ve got your number.”
“Great. Well then, good night.”
“Sleep tight, Audrey.”
After closing the door to Luke, her lungs released a whoosh of air, and she slumped against the door as the last bit of her energy seeped out. She was more tired than she’d let on to the Slades. She’d never fainted before. What was that all about? She chalked it up to emotional angst seeing Luke again. By all rights she should feel exhausted after the highs and lows she experienced today. The lowest was finding out that Luke had no memory of their night together. That had been a crushing blow, and she hadn’t been allowed time to absorb the implications and heal her wounded heart and deflated ego.
Audrey undressed with deliberately slow moves, carefully peeling off her clothes. No sense tempting fate. A sudden move here or there and she might find herself on the floor again without a dashing prince to awaken her.
She hung up her blouse in a double-wide closet and folded her jeans in half, putting them across a captain’s chair in the corner of the room. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, then climbed into bed, giving Jewel a little nudge. “Why aren’t you a curl-up kind of cat?”
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