Chapter 89

　　I woke up with my throat like sandpaper and my skin too hot.

　　The room smelled like whiskey and sleep. A breeze crept in through a cracked window, but the sweat sticking to my back said it wasn't enough. I groaned, rolled sideways-and didn't hit the mattress.

　　I hit skin.

　　Bare, warm skin.

　　My...