Sophia
I rolled over in bed, unable to fall asleep after half an hour.
It bugged me that Weston hadn’t even attempted to persuade me to go back to his hotel room or worm his way into mine. I knew it was stupid to lose sleep over it, but I couldn’t stop wondering why. He could have just been tired or not in the mood, but neither one of those seemed likely for Weston. So the only logical conclusion I could come up with was that he’d grown bored.
It shouldn’t have been a shock to figure out he was one of those types of guys—the ones who enjoy the chase more than the prize itself. In fact, now that I thought about it, that actually made a whole lot of sense. We’d had a nice dinner, good conversation—dare I say the evening was friendly? I’d mistaken Weston’s attraction to the chase for an at
