Miracle's POV
In the morning, an awkward silence hung between Hardy and me.
I stayed firmly on my side, trying to ignore the fact that I'd woken up curled against him.
I focused on the TV in the room, the cockroach in the corner, my hands—anything but him.
He seemed just as happy to ignore me, completely absorbed in the notepad he was doodling in. Good, I thought. This is easier.
My phone felt heavy in my pocket. It had been hours. Surely Steve would have called by now. Surely regret was eating him alive. Surely he was frantic, realizing the colossal mistake he'd made.
Because when you find a good thing, you don't let it go. And I am a good thing. I am kind. I am loyal. I am royalty.
My heart hammered against my ribs as my thumb hovered over the power button. I pressed it, holding my breath.
The screen lit up. Zero missed calls.
