The shower in the guest bathroom was nicer than my entire apartment. Multiple showerheads. Marble tile. Water pressure that could probably strip paint off a car. I stood under the spray and let the heat work through muscles that had spent the night serving as a pillow for four girls who apparently viewed personal space as a suggestion rather than a rule.
My phone sat on the counter, screen lighting up every thirty seconds with messages I was ignoring.
Felix wanted to know if I needed backup. Vivienne had sent a revised timeline for the day. Harlow had texted a string of heart emojis followed by a picture of waffles. Cassidy had sent a single skull emoji, which I interpreted as either encouragement or a death threat.
Sabrina hadn't texted at all. She didn't need to. Everything she wanted to say had been in that kiss.
