Chapter 88

Sullivan's room had a clean and minimal vibe. Camila walked in without glancing around. As soon as she saw Sullivan pulling open a drawer to get the medicine, she stepped up quickly. "Thanks, Sullivan, I got it. Let me do it myself," she said, rushing to avoid a repeat of what happened downstairs-him grabbing her hand to help apply it. She wasn't comfortable with guys touching her. Well, except for Prescott-him and his shameless antics. He always crossed the line, leaving her blushing and helpless to stop him. But with Sullivan... she had to keep some space. There was something off about the way he looked at her. Maybe it was just in her head, but it didn't matter. She'd already made up her mind about being with Prescott. There was no room for emotional entanglements with anyone else, and she liked things clean and clear. Sullivan wasn't blind; he could feel her deliberate distance. His eyes dropped a little, that calm face flickering with disappointment. He didn't comment, just presse