The Playbook for Heartbreak
Inside, the suite was dark save for a single amber floor lamp near the lounge chair and the soft, cool illumination of Eve’s tablet.
Eve sat cross-legged near the headboard of the California King, her dark hair freed from its severe knot and spilling over her shoulders in soft, dark waves. She wore a long-sleeved silk sleep shirt and soft lounge pants, her posture relaxed for the first time in weeks. Across her lap rested her tablet, displaying the comprehensive post-game telemetry file from the 3–1 victory over the Vipers.
Beside her, leaning back against a mountain of white pillows, was Terry.