Page 65 of The Potter

I’m hungry, tired, and a little disappointed in my hunting skills by the time I unlock my room and find Dr. Potter on the floor….

Beautiful and broken.

Vance

The floor is fuzzy.

I hope that means I’m drunk enough to endure the upcoming lecture spewing out of Halle’s lips.

Her lips…

They are everything a plastic surgeon could ever hope of achieving. Full and plump, even on the top and bottom. They. Are. Perfection.

“Are you going to answer me?” She folds her arms, arching her brows expectantly.

“I think you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that question,” I tell her, which only seems to upset her more as she pushes off the door and comes to straddle me on the floor.

“You know, Dr. Potter, I’ve had just about enough of your alpha bullshit.”

Scoffing, I struggle to hold her glare. “Get out of my room.”

A grin spreads along her face slowly. It makes me nervous. “You’re inmyroom, Vance.”

What? No.

I look around, noting the same white comforter and glass sitting on the table. But then I spot it, a pink bag slung over the chair.

Fuck.

I groan and try pushing up, only to be pushed back down. “How’d you get in my room, Vance?” She fingers my tie, a gentle smile on her face until I don’t answer.

Suddenly, she pulls me forward.

“What are you doing?” I eye my tie clutched in her hand, noting the weight of her body over my legs, holding me captive.

“You answer my question and then I’ll answer yours.”

My hands go to her hips. “Don’t make this embarrassing, Ms. Belle.”

She throws her head back, and I swear her laughter feels like it comes from all around me. “Embarrassing for who? You, who can barely sit up, or me, who caught her boss shitfaced in her hotel room?”

“I thought this was my room.”

Her gaze lowers. “How did your key work?”

Just when I thought this day couldn’t get shittier. “I…” I exhale a deep breath, glimpsing her grip still tight on my tie. “I mixed up the room numbers.”

“Still doesn’t explain the key working.”

Why? Why, Vance? Could you not have just rented a car and gone home? Why did you have to drown your sorrows in a bottle?

Clenching my teeth, I face her. “I might have passed out by your door, and the maintenance guy found me and ushered me in when I told him my keycard wouldn’t work.”

She laughs, loosening her grip enough where I can lean back against the wall. “The security here is pretty shitty.”

I shrug. “I rented the whole wing. Technically, all these rooms are mine for the evening. I simply forgot which one I let you have.”

“You did what?” She rocks back on her heels, her palms going to her thighs, drawing my gaze to her center, where my fingers were earlier. “You’re telling me you rented all the rooms on this hall because you didn’t want to run into anyone… else?”

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