Maggie dug through her purse, searching for the key to her apartment. The dark hallway and the spinning in her head weren’t helping. She evened her breath and managed to put the key in the hole. Her feet shuffled across the hardwood floor as her finger found the light switch.
“Maggie.”
Kyle’s voice made her gasp. She swore, straining her eyes toward him, reaching behind her to the ledge of her working desk for support.
He stood from his chair and marched in her direction.
“What the fuck you doing, lurking in the dark like this?” She tossed the key and purse on the desk. “Aren’t you supposed to be in San Francisco?” The words were heavy on her tongue.
“I’m sorry I let myself in, but you gave me a key for emergencies. I’ve been calling you all night. When you didn’t answer, I got worried.” A line appeared between his eyebrows. “Where the hell have you been? And why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
Every drink she had seemed to hit her all over again, and she weaved in front of him. He steadied her with his hand on her elbow. “Are you drunk?”
She blinked, willing her head to clear. She failed. “Yes. Stoned, too.”
He huffed a sigh, his features softening. “Come.” He helped her to the bed. “I’ve been worried sick. You could’ve at least picked up your phone.”
She leaned down to untie her shoes. “It died, Mike. I’m sorry.”
“Mike?”
Fuck. She looked up, and his eyes were widened into a glare. The tightening of his forehead and how his bottom lip curled underneath a tooth showed how deep he was hurt. “I’m so sorry, babe. I’ve been with Mike all night, and I’m really wasted.”
“Why the hell were you with Mike all night?” He clenched his jaw hard enough the muscles twitched.
She tilted her head back and breathed out. “Can we just go to bed now? I literally can’t keep my eyes open any longer. I promise I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”