Page 188 of Wicked Dreams

He scowls in that direction. To me, he says, “Get dressed.”

He tugs on a pair of shorts and closes the door behind him.

I pause for a second, then rush for my clothes. Underwear, leggings, sports bra, t-shirt. It’s all on in a matter of seconds, and I make sure my hair isn’t crazy before I step out. The strands of pearls were yanked out sometime during our second fuck. I twist my hair up into a high bun, frowning at my reflection.

After brushing my teeth, I walk into the living room.

Riley sits on the couch, biting her nail. “Oh my God, Margo! First, amazing room. Second, this is an emergency?—”

“Slow down,” I mumble.

“Where’s your phone?”

It was in the clutch. Where said clutch ended up, I don’t know. “I’d have to look around.”

She huffs, then whirls on Caleb. “I need to take her.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You can keep the room, Ri. I’ve got an errand to run anyway.” He comes over and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll check out, so don’t worry about it. Eli can give you a ride.”

“Okay.”

He grabs his bag and goes into the bathroom. When he reappears moments later, he’s fully dressed.Ugh.I need at least a half hour to get my act together. He leaves, and Riley follows me into the bedroom.

She immediately starts laughing. “Jesus.”

“What?”

“Smells like you had alotof sex.”

“Gross. But… true.”

I collect my stuff, throwing it in my bag while Riley watches. I save the dress for last, smoothing it as I fold it over my arm. My fingers touch something that crinkles, and I suddenly remember the paper Claire had given me. I never even thought to mention it to Riley.

I pull it out and slip it into my leggings pocket, vowing to read it later.

Finally, I place the dress in my bag and zip it shut.

“Okay, I think that’s everything.”

“Except your phone.” She’s still gnawing at her finger.

“Did you try to reach me last night? Did something happen with you and Eli?”

“What? No. No, he’s waiting for us in the lobby.”

I shrug. “It was in the clutch with my ID. Maybe in the living room?”

We scour the place, and I finally find it under the dining table. How it got there, I’ll never know. I’m about to get my phone, but Riley lays her hand on top of mine.

“Stop,” she blurts out.

I stare at her. “You’re actingweird.”

She shifts. “Remember that picture that got emailed around?”

Oh no.

“Um… there was a video.”

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