But there was no time for manners when paychecks were at stake.
The elevator opened and I lurched inside, dropping my bag so I could dig out my jeans and drag them on under my dress the second the elevator door slid closed.
Back to reality.
My broke, boring, cock-free reality.
I sighed as I jumped up and down to get my jeans in place, while ordering a car on my phone.
No use in lamenting. It had been a great night and I had the sore body to prove it.
When the elevator opened I dashed out and gave the concierge a frantic wave as I blew past the front desk to the doors. I knew what I looked like. I had a dress on over my jeans and no shoes. God only knew what state my hair and makeup were in.
“Do you need a taxi?” the doorman asked as he opened the door for me and cold air blasted me.
“No, I called a car, but thank you. Have a great day!” I scanned for my ride and spotted it. I cried out as my bare feet made contact with the cold pavement. “Crap, it’s cold out here,” I said, stating the total obvious, as I bounced up and down.
“You have a great day as well, Miss Mia,” the doorman said with a smile and a nod.
I ran across the circular-entry drive and jumped into the waiting car.
It took me an entire rushed shift of steaming lattes and ignoring Dawn’s snarky comments to wonder how in the hell the doorman at a condo building James didn’t live in knew my name.
* * *
JJ
* * *
Rolling over I reached for Mia’s warm and naked body, wanting to spoon her.
I found nothing but net.
Mia wasn’t in my bed. Popping my eyes open, I glanced around my bedroom, looking for her. I had no idea what time it was, so I felt around on my nightstand for my phone, knocking the box of condoms on the floor. It was barely after seven. I didn’t even know what had woken me up given how little sleep I had gotten. It had to have been after three when Mia and I had finally stopped giving each other orgasms and given in to sleep.
But there was definitely no Mia in the room now.
Not only did I not see her, her bag and all the stuff she’d dumped out of it the night before were conspicuously missing. Listening, I didn’t hear any sound coming from my bathroom. No shower or sink running, no toilet flushing.
Mia must have left.
Not going to lie, I was shocked.
Yes, that made me sound like an arrogant asshole, but I didn’t have women leave without saying a word. It just didn’t happen because of the whole pro athlete, I’m-rich thing. And I knew for a fact I was a pretty good fuck. Most wanted to draw out our night together, and all of them wanted my number. A few of my past hookups had had somewhere to be and would shake me awake to give me a little send-off sex.
But no woman, except for the one woman I wanted to see again, rolled out without so much as a fuck you.
I got out of bed just to make sure. But a look around my entire apartment confirmed Mia was gone.
There was no note on any visible surface.
I felt annoyed and more than a little disappointed.
What, she hadn’t had a good time? Those orgasms were faked?
Bullshit. I didn’t believe that for a split second. No one could fake that much wetness. I climbed back into bed and punched a pillow. The movement made her scent waft up from the sheets and I breathed in deeply, instantly getting hard.
Then I groaned. “What the hell?” I asked myself in my empty bedroom. “What the actual hell is wrong with you, Beckett?”
I stared at the ceiling, going through the whole night in my head. There was no indication that Mia hadn’t had a good time. We’d hung out together for hours before heading back to my place, so she’d had multiple opportunities to pull the plug. Not only had she come home with me, she’d been a very enthusiastic and generous partner. Talking her into more sex after she’d indicated she wanted to sleep hadn’t really taken that much effort.
She’d been into it. Into me.
There had to be a note, then. I rolled toward the side and let my hands dangle over the bed, feeling around on the carpet. Maybe it had floated underneath the bed. I didn’t feel any paper. Instead I came up with a heel. I pulled it up and held it in front of me. Definitely Mia’s shoe she’d been wearing the night before. It had really gotten tossed a distance, damn. The memory made me groan out loud again.
Using my hands to walk myself out and halfway off the bed in a partial plank position, I bent my head down to look under the bed for the other heel. Nothing. Collapsing back onto my mattress, I plunked the heel down on my nightstand and stared at it. That was some Cinderella shit right there. The hotel maid ran out before dawn and left a shoe.
It would be entertaining if it wasn’t so annoying.
I had decided the night before it was no one-night stand. It seemed Mia had different ideas about us. I wasn’t prepared to accept that.
Grabbing my phone off my nightstand, I punched her full name into various social media outlets. My thought was to reach out to her, convince her to see me again. I found her easily, but she didn’t post often. The pictures of herself were minimal, the normal type of musings that people posted non-existent. Most of the posts were when someone tagged her.
Including one of her at the stadium, wearing a team jersey.
What the hell.
I sat upright, blowing the image up bigger. It was our quarterback’s jersey, but still, she was there. At a game. I checked the date in October and knew for a fact I had been playing that day. I had only missed one game in the last three seasons and that was for concussion protocol.
Some guy had his arm around her. Was that her ex-boyfriend?
Did it matter?
She had lied to me. She had to have known who I was, which upset me. I had wanted her to like me for the guy that I was, not the player.
Of course, that made me swear out loud. I had lied to her. So what, I wanted her to like James the boat salesman? Who didn’t exist? I had really botched this one.
I had exactly zero right to be annoyed with her.
That didn’t change the fact that she’d left without a word though. There had to be an explanation for that.
I called the building valet.
“Good morning, Mr. Beckett,” the voice said. “This is Randy, how can I help you?”
“Hey, Randy. Can you tell me if my guest found a cab okay?”
“Yes, sir. She ordered a car. I saw her get into it.”
“And what time was that?”
“Just before six. I think she was late for something because she wasn’t wearing shoes and she was running.”
I glanced over at the heel on my nightstand. She must have been in a big-ass hurry to leave if she rolled out barefoot in December. Or anytime, for that matter. I wouldn’t want my bare feet in a stranger’s car. “Thanks, Randy.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, I’m good, have a great day.”
“You, too, sir.”
I tossed my phone down on my bed beside me. Then I immediately picked it up again, found her image, and stared at her. God, she was gorgeous. “What is your deal, Mia?” I murmured, as I scrolled through her pictures and found a different one of her winking at the camera. It felt like she was mocking me directly. What had she known about me and what had she wanted?