Page 85 of Tortured Tones

“I’m never late. But you always are.”

“I’ll be there. If not, you can ditch me.”

“If you’re a second late, I will.”

“I like a challenge. I’ll see you soon, Ava.”

I headed out the door. The hallway was clear. I rushed to the elevator and pressed the call button.

God. What a night. That had been fucking wild. But now I had to forget about it and put it behind me.

I wasn’t sure how I’d do that. But I had to.

I didn’t want to cause any problems. For Ava. For her job. For our kids. I had enough to deal with—I didn’t need to add any more items onto my long list of never-ending worries.

How bad would the fallout be if someone found out about us?

Shit. Don’t go there.

I never wanted to find out.

Chapter 20

AVA

I grabbed two takeaway coffees from the café in the lobby and stood by a huge flower arrangement, waiting for Cole. I stayed clear of the bustle of people checking in and out at the reception counter, gathering in small groups to chatter, and dashing outside to catch their rides. Kennedy stood waiting by our Suburban, blocking half the driveway. With an air of over-importance in his stiff stature, dressed in full uniform and with comms and black Ray-Bans on, no one dared to question him.

My hungover, over-sexed body was grateful he was on duty this morning, not me. The late night, the scent of Cole lingering on my skin, and the remains of a dull headache had left me weary and woozy. But it was nothing two Advil and a strong black coffee wouldn’t cure. Seeing Josh would erase the ache too.

I glanced at my watch. Cole had two minutes until I was out of there.

But as I looked up, one of the elevators pinged and opened. Cole stepped out. As he ambled across the foyer with his dark shades on, cell phone to his ear, and overnight bag and suit draped over his shoulder, all eyes turned in his direction. Butterflies fluttered in my belly. I’d seen what was under those ripped jeans and that gray hoodie. Touched every fine inch of his naked body. Those visions wouldn’t leave my head in a hurry.

He ended the call and had a quick word with the concierge, handing over the box with the necklace I’d worn in it.

I picked up my overnight bag, joined him, and handed him his coffee. “You’re on time. I’m impressed. Here. This will help clear the head.”

“No hangover here.” He took the cup and threw me a devilish grin. “I burned all the alcohol out of my system last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I played coy, but between my legs clenched, recalling every hot, orgasmic moment. So did my tingling nipples. And my quivering fingers. My time with him played on repeat through my mind. Now, somehow, I had to hit stop. Soon...maybe tomorrow...when I’m back at work.

He chuckled and took a sip of coffee. A soft moan murmured in his throat as he licked his lips. “Mmm. That’s good. But not as good as last night. I had the most incredible dream.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “It was very vivid and very hot.”

“Lucky you.” God. My cheeks were ablaze. We had to get out of there.

He straightened and a playful smile inched across his mouth. “Best dream I’ve had in a long time.”

“Is that so?” I teased. “I had a shocking night. I didn’t get much sleep. And I ache all over.”

“I’d be happy to give you a massage.”

My muscles screamed yes at his suggestive, how-about-it tone, but no...we had to put last night behind us.

“No, thanks. I’m good.” Spinning around, I walked backward toward the door. “We have to go.”

We headed outside. From across the road, at least twenty paparazzi stood posed with their lenses directed at the hotel, no doubt desperate to catch a picture of the aftermath of a big party. The Flintlocks and the cast of Angels in LA weren’t the only celebrities who had stayed there last night. But the gold BMW parked in front of them caught my eye. A telescopic lens was aimed straight at us. Was it the same one that had been outside Gabrielle’s Boutique? I didn’t know how the guys put up with being followed to feed Internet gossip. But if the photographers were after a shot of Cole looking his worst, they’d be disappointed. The guy could be a fucking supermodel. But a shot of him to create gossip about his latest hookup?... That was a whole different dilemma. My stomach swayed. Ergh! Why had I agreed to go out with him again? Oh yeah...to have a night of fun. A smile curled across my lips. I’d had that along with a few unexpected bonuses.

I could handle a couple of days of gossip. I’d known what I’d be in for when I’d agreed to go with him. Everything would be fine.

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