Page 12 of Midnight Rebel

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Chapter 4

Autumn

Colt Montgomery.Of all the men at that party, ithadto be him. And now I’ve spent the entire night wrapped in his arms, believing, for a fleeting moment, that maybe we were something more than what we are—a reporter and her mark.

I can still feel it—that connection. Colt’s hands on my waist. His breath teasing my neck. His whispers between dances. It’s too real, too vivid. Like he’s still here.

I tug the robe tighter as if I can shield myself from the gnawing truth.

Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I open a message to Skylar. It’s almost two in the morning. My fingers hover over the keys as I debate how much to share.

Finally, I type:

Me: It’s after midnight, and I’m texting you because, of course, the hottest, most bossy guy in the world is also tied up in my investigation. The universe’s way of torturing me, I guess.

I pause, then add:

Me: Think Garrett, but with a serious ‘I’m going to protect you whether you like it or not’ complex. I’ll fill you in on all the drama tomorrow. Spoiler: I’m in too deep.

I hit send, knowing full well she won’t see it until morning. Still, just putting the words out there helps loosen the knot in my chest.

I can almost hear her laugh and imagine her rolling her eyes at my dramatics.

Skylar will get a kick out of this. For now, I need to wash Colt—and everything he stirs up—out of my system. But of course, that’s wishful thinking.

Steam swirls around me, but Colt’s image only sharpens. His strong hands on my body, his intense gaze locking with mine—I can’t shake it.

Every detail is etched into my mind, refusing to fade.

The pounding on the hotel room door jolts me from my thoughts. I freeze, one hand still tangled in my damp hair, the other clutching my towel closed.

“Autumn!” The familiar voice, rough and edged with frustration, seeps through the wood. “Open the damn door!”

Colt. My heart leaps into my throat.

I glance at the clock—2:15 AM. What the hell is he doing here?

“Coming!” I call as I scramble for my robe. The knocking intensifies, and I hear another voice—higher and nervous.

“Sir... We might have to call security if you?—”

“I’m not leaving until she opens the door.”

I take a deep breath and yank the door open, gearing up to give Colt arealpiece of my mind. But the words die on my lips when I see him.

He looks... wrecked. Hair mussed like he’s been running his hands through it, shirt crumpled, eyes wild. The man practically vibrates with tension—and something else.

Colt’s eyes flash as they lock onto mine, then drop—taking in the damp tendrils of my hair, the thin robe exposing just enough skin. Heat flares in his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” I ask faintly, taking a step back, acutely aware of how I must look.

He shoves past me into the room, his gaze sweeping over every corner before turning back to me. “I’ve been knocking for damn near ten minutes.”

“Please, come in,” I mutter sarcastically, pulling the door shut. “Make yourself at home.”

His jaw tightens as he turns to me, eyes sharp. “Why didn’t you answer sooner? Where the hell were you?”

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