Page 101 of Fumbling for Perfection

Within seconds, sleep takes over.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

RILEY

I roll my shoulders and stretch my legs, pointing my toes until my limbs are loose and limber. The pillow smells like Walker, or it could be my dreams he invaded. My body is warm, as if I’d been cocooned by him all night.

I blink my eyes open and take in my surroundings; the off-white walls, the dark nightstand, the gray comforter. I roll to my side and see the wide span of the empty bed. Walker’s empty bed.

Last night plays back at fast forward speed. Watching the blood coat his face. Rushing to his apartment building. Getting kicked out of the lobby. Waiting for him outside the parking lot. Walker finding me asleep on the curb. Coming up to his apartment. Falling asleep in his arms.

I came here to take care of him, but he took care of me. I rub my eyes and fling back the covers to begin my search for him. It’s my first time in his apartment, but I don’t take the time to tour it. The bathroom off his bedroom is dark and quiet. The open door down the hall to the guest room shows that room is empty and unused, as is the guest bathroom.

I pad down the rest of the hallway to the open concept living room, dining room, and kitchen. He’s not here, but the smell of coffee permeates the air. I check out the kitchen and find a note next to the coffee maker.

Riley,

You looked so beautifully perfect in sleep, I didn’t want to wake you. I had to head to the team doctor to get my stitches checked out and finish my concussion protocol. Stay as long as you want. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen or the rest of the apartment.

Thank you for being there for me last night. It means more than you can possibly imagine.

See you soon.

Walker

He even drew a cute heart next to his name. I hold the note close to my chest and smile like a lovesick teenager. Glancing around the apartment, I take in the elegant but simplistic decor. It may cost a fortune, but it lacks personality.

I can’t imagine what kind of house Walker lived in in San Francisco, or what his style is. I’ve only seen him in fancy hotel rooms and now this pre-furnished upscale apartment. I fold his note and tuck it in my pocket.

It’s then that I look down at my outfit. “Holy shit. I look disgusting.” No wonder he didn’t try to make a move last night and took off this morning.

Spying the waiting coffee mug, I fill it and top it off with one of the fancy creamers in his fridge. While I sip my coffee, I take a leisurely stroll around the living space and stop in front of the windows, looking down on the city.

The sun shines high in the sky and people bustle about. I spot the clock mounted on the wall by the dining table and gasp.

“Twelve-fifteen?”

While waiting for Walker last night, I messaged the Pilates group chat to let my clients know I wouldn’t be able to make it to class, but Rhonda was kind enough to cover for me. I figured I’d be at work by eight though.

I chug the rest of my coffee, rinse the mug, and put it in the dishwasher. My keys are on the counter next to a pad of paper, so I scribble out a note, thanking him for the coffee and comfortable bed, and hurry out the door.

When the elevator opens to the lobby, the security officer stops me. “Ms. Riley?”

I pause and stare at him wide-eyed. These guys are either really good at their job or freaky stalkers.

“Um. Yes?”

“Mr. Bankes asked us to deliver this to you upon your departure.” He hands me an envelope.

“Oh. Thank you.” I give him a quick smile and scurry out the door, jogging to the parking garage.

The incredible night sleep, and seeing Walker, is worth the forty-five-dollar parking charge. Once home, I take a record-breaking fast shower, twirl my hair in a wet bun, and grab my closest pair of clean leggings and a Boston Strong T-shirt. The early fall days are unpredictable and I don’t have time to check the forecast, so I grab a zip up hoodie just in case and am out the door ten minutes later.

“Hey, Julie,” I huff as I push through the doors to Boston Strong. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I overslept and—”

“No need to apologize, Riley. We figured you’d be up watching the game and Rhonda covered your class.”

I haven’t talked about my relationship with Walker, not that I could explain it to my staff anyway. I keep my private life private, but it’s been hard to do when my staff trips over themselves whenever he comes by.

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