Page 27 of The Love Wager

Slipping his shirt on, I snuggle into the soft mattress, my eyes falling heavy as I await his return.

Aloud vibration stirs me from my sleep. I shoot my hand out, hitting an empty bed next to me, looking for my phone to shut it off. It doesn’t connect, and I draw my eyes open and focus on the room that is not my hotel. The vibration comes again, and my mind fully grasps my surroundings.

The noise in question is passed out, snoring loudly on his back. I watch him sleep for a few minutes, being a total creep, but he looks more peaceful than I’ve yet to see him. Slinking from the mattress, making sure not to jostle it too much and wake Brooks, I snag my dress and panties from the floor, peeling his shirt from my body and getting dressed.

My phone is shockingly still alive on the kitchen table, but the book of notifications on the front screen sends me into apanic. The third one I open threatens bodily harm if I don’t respond, and the fourth is a bride about ready to pull rank and remove me from her wedding party.

I’m late for our spa day.

Shit!

Plucking my purse from the hook by the door, I dig through the messy bag full of receipts and wrappers trying to find the keys to my rental. I hope it’s still parked at the curb and hasn’t been towed. I must have taken a wrong turn because instead of stepping back into the alley, I’m stepping out into the bar.

It’s too early for it to be open, but a throat clears, sending my phone into the air and my feet from the ground. I let out a screech of horror and whirl in the noise’s direction.

“Fucking hell, Nick. What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? I work here. What are you doing, slinking through the bar at this hour?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

I narrow mine at him, knowing damn well the bedhead and date night outfit screams, got laid parade, and I ignore him. “Is the front door open? I really have to go; I’m running late!”

He stares me down while I continue my escape. “Yep, you’re all good.”

Just as I’m about to be free, my body entirely out on the sidewalk, he yells after me. “Don’t fuck with his heart, Indie!”

I pause on the threshold and glance back at him, the easy agreement stuck in my throat. All I can do is nod and let the door close behind me.

Fuck with his heart? What about mine?

TEN

Brooks

Waking up and finding Indie gone wasn’t really surprising, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t sting a bit. Knowing and understanding her, however, has made me feel a bit more confident that I’ll see her again and soon.

Pulling my shirt on as I come down the stairs into the bar, I lock eyes with Nick as he smirks knowingly.

“And there’s the other half of the dynamic duo,” he jokes.

“Don’t start.”

He’s leaning over paperwork, and I don’t pay attention to what it is as I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge beneath the bar, taking long drags as my mind runs through flash images of Indie last night, riding me, her beautiful hair, and soft moans…

“Hey, earth to Brooks?” Nick says, bringing me out of my head effectively.

“What? Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Well, I’m sure your brain is full of other shit, but someone from the bank called a bit ago, and he seemed really adamant he needed to get a hold of you; I thought I’d give you the message before I forgot.”

“Fuck.”

“The number and all that is by the phone.”

Walking over to the register, I look down on the pad where Nick took down Walt’s name from the First Abaline bank and his extension.

I’m not ready for another letdown, but I no longer have to worry about that.

Not with Indie’s deal on the table. Both of us can start fresh and get out of all the bullshit we’re wading through.

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