Oh my god, cocaine in the air. Don’t breathe, Sophie! Don’t get it in your nose!
Ruby shouted something and Marcus staggered backward. I dove into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind me.
I quickly turned the lock and put my back to the door, my breath coming in gasps. Great, I was like the dumb girl in the horror movie who ran upstairs, trapping herself in the house with the killer.
Frantically, I looked for a way out while Ruby and Marcus called my name through the door. What had I gotten myself into? Dr. Handsy Perv would have been better than this.
Well, maybe.
One of them rattled the doorknob. Maybe they’d have to get housekeeping to unlock it. I could hide in the bathroom until then. No, that wasn’t a good plan. Not that locking myself in here was good either, but at this point, I had to work with what I had.
The only other door led to a balcony.
Which gave me an idea.
After all, we were only on the second floor.
With my heart still racing and Ruby and Marcus trying to talk to me through the door, I checked the closet. There were white towels and a few fluffy pillows, but on the top shelf, I found what I was looking for.
Extra bedsheets.
I grabbed the neatly folded stack of soft cotton and madly shook it out while I darted for the balcony.
The cold air hit me and I realized that at some point, I’d dropped my coat. Too late to worry about that now. By some small miracle, my purse still hung off my shoulder, so that was something. I moved the strap over my head to the other shoulder so I wouldn’t lose it on the way down.
I glanced over the balcony. It overlooked an inner courtyard with stone-paved paths and lush landscaping. A fountain trickled, glowing with lights.
It was now or never.
I tied the sheets together, then fastened one end to the railing, hoping the knots would hold. Although I’m not what anyone would call skinny, usually I don’t mind my ample curves. But right then, I sort of wished I’d been built a little less shapely.
Oh well, too late to go on a diet now. Here went nothing.
I tossed the loose end of the sheet down and hoisted myself over the side. My shoes slipped off my feet and clattered to the ground below.
The breeze chose that exact moment to pick up, billowing the red fabric of my dress. God, that was cold. It was almost like I wasn’t wearing any—
Panties.
Which I wasn’t.
Thankfully, no one was down there.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Scratch that. There was someone down there.
I groaned. Of course there was. This was me. If something could go wrong, it would.
“Careful,” the man below me said. He had a slight Southern drawl. “You should—whoa.”
The wind whipped my dress around again, sending a chill straight up my—
Anyway.
“Stop looking up my dress. I’m trying to get down.”
“I wasn’t—” He cleared his throat. “Kind of hard to avoid.”
My feet were braced against the lower part of the balcony and my arms already burned from the effort of holding the sheet. These probably felt great to sleep on, but for escape purposes, they were really slippery.
“Are you stuck?” he asked.
I hesitated for a second. “Maybe?”
“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do.” His voice was calm and commanding, and if I hadn’t been hanging off a balcony about to fall to my death, I probably would have found his accent unbelievably charming. It reminded me of Matthew McConaughey. “You’re going to let your feet drop, and you’ll slide down. Just make sure you have a good grip on the sheet first. I’ll be at the bottom to catch you. And don’t look down.”
I looked and let out a squeak.
“I said don’t look down.”
“You can’t say don’t look down. Obviously that’s just going to make me look.”
“Come on,” he said, his tone strong and soothing. “Slide on down. I’ve got you.”
“Okay.” I took a fortifying breath and released my feet.
I squeaked again as I slid, gritting my teeth against the burn of the fabric in my hands. Too fast. I was going too fast. I was going to—
Strong arms caught me around my waist, bringing me to a sudden stop. The breath rushed from my lungs and I let go of the sheet as he set me gently on the ground.
“Oh good. I didn’t die.”
“Why the hell were you climbing off a balcony with a sheet?”
I brushed my unruly curls out of my face, scooped up my shoes, and started walking away barefoot. “They offered me cocaine and wanted to do a threesome. I panicked. Thank you for helping me down, but I have to go.”
“Wait, what?” He jogged a few steps to catch up with me.
“Never mind. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me.”
“No, I believe you. Are you all right? Do you need a ride or something?”
I kept walking, although I wasn’t sure if I was heading in the right direction. Away from the scary cocaine couple—and the guy who’d just seen up my dress. “No, after the night I’ve had, the last thing I’m going to do is get in a car with someone I don’t know. I guess I won’t know an Uber driver if I order a ride, but that doesn’t count. But maybe I’ll call one of my friends because clearly, my night is cursed and I’ll probably get picked up by a psychotic ax murderer.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the lobby?”
“That’s not the way to the lobby.”
I stopped and let out a breath. I needed to slow down and think. My eyes lifted, meeting his, and I choked on my own spit.
It was him.
I hadn’t seen him in person in at least twenty years—since we were kids—but he was low-key famous now, especially in Seattle. Besides, I’d never forget that face.
Camden Cox.
“It’s you.”
He gave me a smile that made it clear he wasn’t surprised to be recognized—but gave no indication that he knew who I was.
Jerk.
His expression softened and for a second, I wondered if my snap judgment was wrong and he did remember me. He blinked and one corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
A swarm of butterflies took flight in my stomach and that sexy little grin of his sent a pleasant tingle down my spine.
Camden Cox hadn’t just grown up sexy. He’d grown up drop-dead gorgeous. Thick, dark hair. Haunting gray eyes. Sharp cheekbones and square jaw. He wore the hell out of his dark suit with a vest and tie.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
Like a record scratch, I jolted back to reality, no longer under the hypnotic spell of a gorgeous man—or his slow Southern drawl. He didn’t remember me. Yep, jerk.
“Sophia,” I said, using my birth name. I didn’t know why. No one had ever called me Sophia, not even when I was a baby. But at this point, I didn’t want him to realize who I was.
“Nice to meet you, Sophia. I’m Camden Cox, but everybody calls me Cox. Are you sure I can’t get you a ride, or—”
“No thanks,” I said quickly. “I’ll get myself home. Thanks for helping me off the balcony.”
I glanced around to orient myself and saw a sign pointing to the lobby. Before he could say anything else, I walked away, my heels dangling from my hands, the chill night air still wafting up my dress.