I hear the spray of water and the shower curtain being pulled along the rod. Lost in thought, I’m staring at my phone reading an e-mail from Hudson when it suddenly hits me and I bolt up out of my chair.
Cute? The fuck?
My heart begins hammering in my chest, and my palms break out in a damp sweat. Hudson’s words come rushing back to me. I realize that if I thought that was cute, my feelings for her are a lot deeper than I ever bargained for.
Picking up my phone again, I dial Hudson in a blind panic, trying not to freak the fuck out. He will explain this to me. He has to. I can’t let hysteria set in. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
“Yo,” he answers. “How’s Oklahoma?”
“It’s Nebraska,” I bark. I have no time for pleasantries. I’m dealing with a Code Red emergency here.
“Oh, right. What’s up, man?”
“She just fucking farted.”
A long silent pause. “So I take it you left her?” he says with a chuckle.
“No. Worse. I thought it was cute. I laughed it off and told her not to worry about it. She was mortified, of course.”
I glance to the bathroom door, which is still shut. The sound of water running tells me she’s still showering.
“Okay, we’ll talk this out. You can get through this,” Hudson reassures me with only a hint of a mocking tone to his voice.
“Damn it. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What’s the problem? Did you guys have sex?”
“Yes. Several times last night,” I admit.
“And now you have real feelings for her?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“And the problem is what, exactly?”
The problem is so colossal that it can’t even be put into words. What’s happening between us isn’t just friendship, I’m falling in love with her. The one thing I vowed I’d never do again. It almost destroyed me last time, and every fucking time I see Roxy, it’s pushed into my face all over again. A constant reminder of what could have been. That can’t happen with Emery. I wouldn’t survive it.
“I’ve gotta go,” I tell him.
“Hayden, don’t do this—” Hudson begs, but I end the call before I can hear the rest of it.
Pacing the hotel room, I gather my stray clothes and toss them into my duffel bag. Then I pull on a T-shirt and my shoes, and I’m out the door before the shower even turns off.
My plan is to head straight for the airport and hightail it back to LA, where I can pretend like none of this ever happened. Outside the lobby of the hotel, I hail the first cab I see, tossing my duffel bag inside and then climbing in after it.
“The airport, please.”
My hands are shaking as I pull out my cell phone and type out a text to Emery.
Hayden : Sorry. I can’t do this.
Then I turn off my phone.
Chapter Eighteen
Emery
Last night was one of the best nights of my life. Being intimate with Hayden was . . . everything. It was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had. But the afterglow illuminated a few unpleasant things, and the stark light of morning has only confirmed them.
As I stand under the spray of warm water, lathering shampoo in my hair, I realize I can’t ignore the fact that I have major feelings for him. It’s kind of terrifying; sex changing our relationship is exactly what I was afraid of yesterday.
Now that the moment is here, though, I don’t feel nearly as stressed as I did when I was worrying about this before. It’s a fact, just as much as the sky is blue and the Sherman Act was passed in 1890 . . . I’m falling in love with Hayden Oliver. A simple truth instead of an anxious, murky possibility.
And this simple truth has a simple—although pretty intimidating—solution. If I still want to date Hayden after we get back to Los Angeles, once I get out of the shower, we should go out for coffee and discuss it like adults. And if he doesn’t return my feelings, if he wants to stay just friends . . . I think I can be a big girl about that. Probably. I just don’t want to lose him and his friendship completely.
So if that’s all we can have, I’ll just have to adjust. Even though the thought of going without the physical part, now that I know exactly how good he is in bed—fuck, that will suck. I’ve never come that many times in a row before. Seriously, my body is achy in the strangest places. But the soreness in my pussy and hips is strangely pleasant, a testament to how much fun we had last night. My dry spell has sure been broken, all right, and I’m already hungry for more.
Plus I’m just plain hungry. We probably don’t have time for a quickie, but I still look forward to eating breakfast with Hayden before I start my last day of boring meetings. And before our return flight, we’ll have another evening all to ourselves . . .
When I come out of the bathroom, the air-conditioning feels frigid against my damp skin, and I hug the towel tighter around me. “Lover?” I call, peeking into the living room.
It’s empty. Chuckling to myself, I realize Hayden must still be in bed. Walking on air, I let the front of my towel drift open. “Up for another round already?” I call out playfully. “Or are you just a lazy . . . ?” I trail off when I realize that the bedroom is empty.
My phone vibrates, and I scurry back to the bed’s nightstand to check. It’s a new text from Hayden. Is he surprising me with something? The butterflies in my stomach start waking up . . .
But they fall quiet again as I read:
Hayden : Sorry, I can’t do this.
So I fire back:
Emery : Can’t do what? You sprain your dick last night, sex machine? :P Don’t worry, we can find other uses for you.
I giggle to myself and wonder seriously where he went. To get coffee, probably.
After I’ve put on my business suit and makeup for the day, there’s still no answer. And when I see his things are gone, my stomach sinks even further. Devastated, I send another text.
Emery : What do you mean? Where are you?
Hayden still hasn’t turned up by the time I finish my huge, lonely breakfast. The room-service bellhop delivered enough for two people, even after I avoided the meat stuff. I can’t wait around for Hayden any longer. I have to head downstairs for the day’s first meeting. Under the conference table, I send text after increasingly frantic text, culminating in:
Emery : What the fuck are you talking about, you cryptic douche?
No response whatsoever. Nothing but radio silence. All I can do is read and reread his original text in the hopes of deciphering something new. Five little words, as short and painful as a scalpel—aimed right where I’d just begun to heal.
I didn’t think I was under any illusions. I didn’t let myself dream that we might become more than friends. Hell, I probably would have been fine with fuck-buddy status. But I never imagined that Hayden would just drop everything and bail like this. Use me and then throw me away like a tissue he’d finished jerking off into. He couldn’t even say good-bye to my face before he ran away. I guess I gave him more credit than he deserves.
Even though he probably won’t answer, I still can’t resist trying to call him during our lunch break. I’m not surprised when his voice-mail message immediately plays.
So this is how we end, huh? After giving me the most mind-blowing night I’ve ever had, he’s already moved on. I almost have to laugh. Roxy was right all along; I was never anything more than his latest conquest. Considering the many years I spent in school, I feel pretty fucking stupid right now. That JD after my name doesn’t mean shit. I fell for his game hook, line, and sinker.