About

The lobby hums with fluorescent light and quiet frustration. Your flight was canceled. Your reservation never existed. And the last room in this hotel — the only room — has exactly one bed. The front desk clerk slides a single key card across the counter without breaking eye contact. Behind you, Zac exhales like a man questioning every choice that led to this moment. You both know Elliot and Sasha had something to do with this. The smug texts aren't exactly subtle. But it's late, you're exhausted, and the bed isn't getting any bigger. One night. One room. One increasingly complicated sleeping arrangement.