Page 140 of Stupid Matchmaking Love

It’s a beautiful spring day. The azaleas are blooming—hot pink, red—while the SUV is filled with the kind of silence that presses on your ribs.

I glance over and his eyes flicker to me. He smiles, but his usual warmth isn’t there. He looks haunted. Seeing me collapse must’ve been hard, but the sooner we put it behind us and move on with our lives, the quicker everything will get back to normal again. He’ll feel like good old Rhett.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“No, not really. I just want to get to my room, hug Flame, and get back into my routine.”

“You sure you don’t want to rest for a few days? Maybe go to your real home, give the resort a break?”

I frown. Why would he suggest that? All us contestants have been living at the resort for weeks. “I’m sure.”

He carries my bag into the Summit, and we head up the elevator to our adjoining suites.

I sneak a glance at him. His jaw is tense and his neck muscles are snapped tight. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, too fast. “Just relieved.”

“Is everything all right with the resort? Canceling the last challenge didn’t affect room bookings, did it?”

“No, in fact, they’re up.”

“That’s great.”

I smile, but Jace’s words tug at the back of my mind. Everything is for show. Even magical soulmates aren’t real. Jace didn’t say that part, but he might as well have. My lungs tighten—just a flicker.

“I’m glad the resort’s been successful.”

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open with a hiss. We reach our suites and Rhett unlocks mine, follows me inside.

There’s a bouquet of roses on the desk, but other than that, the room looks exactly as I left it, a few pieces of clothing lying crumpled on the bed, my mascara and eyeliner standing like soldiers atop the sink’s counter. But what hits me is that the whole place smells like Rhett, the lingering scent of leather and soap. I can never get too much of his smell. I want to bathe in it.

I drop my purse on the bed and head over to the flowers, shooting Rhett a sneaky look. “I wonder who these are from?”

His mouth flickers as I open the card and read.

We’re all thinking of you. —Mina

Mina. Not Rhett.

“Who are they from?”

“Mina.” My stomach drops. “That was sweet of her.”

“Yes, it was.”

I peek into the bunnicorn’s cage, but it’s empty. “Where’s Flame?”

“She must be in my room. I’ll grab her.”

He leaves, not through the adjoining door but out the main suite door, and returns the same way with Flame in his arms.

He places the key card on a nightstand and hands me the bunnicorn.

It’s impossible to know if she missed me, but I rub my cheek against her soft fur and whisper, “I missed you, girlie.”

Her nose tickles my face as she sniffs me. Maybe she did miss me after all. I put her on the floor to let her hop around, and when I do, my gaze lands on the nightstand where my very first Bitty Being used to sit—the one that was of me, the one that shattered.

“My Bitty Being,” I mumble.