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She cocks at eyebrow at me. “Uh-huh.”
“Really, I am. Thank you for telling me. I promise I won’t freak out. In fact, I’ve already forgotten.”
She recoils from the grin I force my mouth into, and I leave before it becomes a scowl.
With every step I take up the stairs, the key in my pocket digs into my thigh. It’s probably the tequila’s fault, but by the time I reach the landing, I’m boiling with fury.
As if I wouldn’t figure out who’d put the key there.
Itmusthave been Owen. I bet this is his way of apologizing. He knows he fucked up, and probably wants to make it better. But this isn’t the key I want. He needs to return the key he stole from my necklace the first night we met.
I stop, cradling the hamper with my fresh-smelling clothes to my chest as I stare down the guys’ hallway.
His room is probably locked.
But if it isn’t… then I can look for my key. I glance down the stairs, catching sight of Kat ambling into the TV room with her bowl of chili.
Guess her room isn’t getting cleaned after all.
I hesitate before hurrying down the hall. I don’t dare leave my hamper behind, so I bring it with me. If Kat comes upstairs and sees it, it’ll be a sure sign that I’m up to mischief.
The first door is locked. Wilder’s room was the second, so I skip it.
The third is closed, but unlocked. I have no idea if this is Owen’s room or not, but I’m searching it either way. The drapes are drawn, so the room is pitch dark. I can’t risk turning on the light, but I do go over to the window and pull open the curtains so a little moonlight can shine in.
The faint light illuminates the outline of a study desk, a chest of drawers, and a slightly larger bed than mine. The layout is different—the bed in the middle of the room and the other furniture arranged against the walls. The room’s also larger than mine—perhaps as big as Kat and mine combined.
There’s a doorway leading off of the main room, and I’m too curious not to check it out.
An en-suite bathroom? This has to be Owen’s room… or Liam’s.
My gaze latches onto the clothes in the laundry hamper. There’s an easy way to way to find out whose room this is. It’s creepy, but definitive.
I grab the school shirt piled on top of everything else and bring it up gingerly to my nose.
I’m still standing there, inhaling Owen’s scent from his dirty clothes… when someone clears their throat behind me.
