Page 7 of The Shake Off

Wait. Dead people didn’t panic. They were dead.

I glanced around the room I was in; not quite as white as I originally thought, but more cream-ish, although cream was the same as white, kind of. The whole room was creamy white, except for a bright pink scrap of material flung across the chair in the far corner.

And everything came hurtling back like I’d been hit in the head with one of my own pitches, and I wasn’t even sure how I’d forgotten, but I was going to blame this bed for sending me into a coma.

That girl.

Holy crap.

I’d been driving down West Fifty-Fifth on the way back from my massage, past that huge brick building across the plaza, and I’d spotted her sitting on the bench outside. She was holding a piece of cake in one hand and trying to light the candle on the top with the other, her bare legs crossed underneath her.

Her long, thick curls were blowing softly in the breeze, and I nearly swerved into one of the trees lining the sidewalk trying to get a better look.

By the time I found her standing on the curb waiting for an Uber, I’d circled the block four times. Even from fifty yards away, under the dim glow of the streetlights, she’d been hot. Up close, she was blinding.

Long legs the color of the bronco my dad started my brothers and me riding on, big brown eyes, and lips I’d be dreaming about in every future fantasy I had. It had been ten p.m. and stopping to talk to her became the highlight of my day, maybe my week.

We’d started on the couch, she’d taken that pink dress off to reveal a smoking hot body, and a pair of tits I wanted to suffocate myself with. We moved into the bedroom, and I proceeded to make her birthday wish come true, twice if I wasn’t mistaken.

I’d made mine come true too, and my birthday wasn’t for another four months.

Good night had by all, on my estimation.

I sat still, listening for any sounds around me, but was met again with nothing but silence.

Where the fuck was she?

I had enough experience with girls that they always wanted more in the morning, something I was only too happy to oblige, seeing as I always woke up with a boner. If I was lucky, they’d disappear to the bathroom for a freshen up, come back in new underwear for me to take off, and on more than one occasion, their roommate.

We’d go another round before I left for training with the promise to call.

I never called.

But this one? I’d be tempted to call this one.

Fuck. What was her name?

Piper… No. Patty… No. P…

“Babe?” I called out, opting for the safest route. Silence. I tried again. “Babe?”

The lack of response had an adverse effect on my boner.

I threw back the covers, spied my boxer briefs over by the chair and pulled them on.

Taking one last glance around the room to check I hadn’t accidentally missed her creepily standing in the corner and watching me – also known to happen – I opened her bedroom door and peered out.

“Hello?”

Nothing. I was definitely alone.

Okay then, I guess there’s a first time for everything.

I took a couple of tentative steps and stopped, just in case she suddenly burst back into the apartment. It wasn’t big enough for her to be hiding anywhere, because it was just her bedroom, a small hallway, and the living room with a bookcase almost overflowing with books. I thought Lux had a lot, but this chick was housing more than I’d seen outside of a bookstore.

I took one more step, which is when I spied a sticky note taped to the archway leading into the kitchen.

Help yourself to coffee, the door locks automatically on your way out.

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