Page 50 of Fumble

“I have some emails to answer. I’ll be in the living room. You might want to call her back. She had a few choice words for me before I hung up.” She can’t even bring herself to look at me, pulling the robe tight around her waist, leaving me wanting. The intimacy of just moments ago lost in awkward silence.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I make a quick exit, leaving her to discuss all the reasons why she just made the biggest mistake of her life with me.

Fuck.

* * *

I dressed.I paced the room. I’ve answered forty emails, and there’s still no sign of Faith. Locked in the bathroom with her cell phone, I hear the occasional cuss word but nothing else. Why do I care what some twenty-something stranger thinks of me sleeping with Faith?

Because I know she’s right to be concerned?

If I contemplate it too long, I’ll drive myself nuts. Instead, I call Coop.

“Hey, man.”

“What have you done now?”

“Why do you assume I’ve done something?”

“Because I fucking know you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Vaughn. You sound like ass. What’s going on? You canceled your entire San Fran promo. You suddenly want to go drink yourself stupid this weekend. This girl’s gotten under your skin, bro.”

“This isn’t about Faith.” Complete lie. “I’m just sick to death of all the hoopla. All I ever wanted to do was play football. Not being able to anymore is more difficult than I thought it would be. I just need to let loose. Can we do that?”

“Sure, but not in public. If it’s the journos that are getting to you, we need to kick back somewhere quiet.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Leave it with me. I’ve got you covered.”

“Thanks, Coop.”

“Later, fuckwad.”

Time keeps ticking on by, and still no sign of Faith. Guess I’ll order some food. Maybe she’ll be hungry when she finally resurfaces. Unable to decide what I want, I order one of everything on the menu. Room service is a beautiful thing.

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Murphy has it under control, knowing better than to let the hotel staff in here. He’s discreet. Always has been. It’s why I pay him twice what I would for any other security guard. He’s worth his weight in gold.

I’m not sure if it’s the sound of the door or the smell of the food that finally coaxes Faith from the bathroom.

“Hungry?”

“Famished.” A shy grin tugs at the corners of her mouth as she pads across the floor, still nestled in the fluffy white robe.

“I didn’t know what you’d want, so I kinda ordered everything.”

“Will you judge me if I eat it all?” Her nose scrunches as she smiles so wide it reaches her eyes.

“Fuck, no. Food porn. Bring it.” Like a kid in a candy store, she peruses every dish, spooning a little of this and a little of that to create a mountainous plate of food.

“You weren’t kidding. I think you’re going to give me a run for my money.”

“You know it.” She wiggles her eyebrows, the lighthearted Faith I know and like returning. Avoiding the stiff formality of the dining area, she opts for the couch, crossing her legs with her plate balanced in her lap.

“Faith.”

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