Page 10 of Fumbled Love

She would have at least left a note or phone number, right? Maybe she left something behind, and I missed it. A tube of lipstick or an earring? I searched the room, looking under the bed, near the door, and under the loveseat. There was nothing. And then my eyes landed on a scrap of fabric rolled up inside the messy sheets. Bingo!

A smile graced my lips at the black lace thong. At least I had something, and it was better than any souvenir I’d find in a New York City gift shop.

I made myself a cup of coffee and walked over to the window. The sidewalks, usually filled with people, were empty, except for the guy shoveling across the street. Everything was covered in snow. Even the few cars parked along the street were buried.

How did she get home? Did she walk? Take a cab?

My phone pinged with an email from my agent letting me know that I had secured another endorsement deal. I fired off a reply, letting him know that I was still in New York if they wanted to meet one more time before I flew home. My focus needed to be on football—not wishing for something that would never happen again. Because I needed to get my old ass back on the field, and a distraction was the last thing I needed.

CHAPTER4

KINLEY

“Knock, knock.”

“Hey, Taylor.” I looked up from the mess scattered over the length of my desk. “I thought you were out of the office today?”

My friend strolled in, all decked out in a red sweater dress, a Santa hat, and snowflake earrings dangling from her ears. It was comical how much she loved Christmas.

She collapsed into the leather chair at the corner of my desk and moved a few files aside to make space to set her coffee down.

“My meeting got canceled, so I thought I’d check in on you and see if you were feeling any better.”

“Just a little more tired than usual,” I said, saving the file I was proofreading before closing out the document. I didn’t have time for small talk, but I didn’t have the energy to turn her away either. She was our operations manager, and I needed her help with a past-due project.

“That’s what happens when you work fourteen-hour days.”

I shook my head, not even bothering trying to deny it. “I need to get this marketing proposal done so I can have everything wrapped up before the holidays.”

“Are you excited about your trip back home? It’s long overdue.”

Wasn’t that the truth? It had been a rough two weeks for me. Our CEO was determined to push our product launch through weeks ahead of schedule to help secure some Christmas sales revenue before the end of the year. The problem was that there were too many issues on the service end, and I was convinced our finance department was over-projecting the potential sales figures. As a result, everyone in the office was stressed and being pulled into multiple projects.

“I am.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. “How was your date last night?” I asked, knowing she would have an exciting story to tell me.

“Get this.” Her eyes lit up. “He teaches at Julliard, so he took me on a tour of the school and played a piece just for me in one of the practice rooms.”

That made me smile. “Sounds romantic.”

“Oh, it was, especially when I thanked him by having sex on the piano when he was done playing.”

I laughed. “That date will be hard to top. Are you going to see him again?”

“Not sure.” She shrugged. “Speaking of dates, are you ready for tonight?” She pulled a mirror out of her bag so she could adjust her bangs. I tilted my head to the side in confusion. When I didn’t answer, she looked up and shook her head. “You forgot, didn’t you? It’s Chad’s holiday party tonight.”

“Shit, it completely slipped my mind.” I picked up my phone to check the time. “Why did I even commit to this?”

She chuckled. “You agreed to go because it’s a for a good cause.”

That was true. Chad worked for a nonprofit that supplied food and resources to help get homeless people off the street, and tonight was their big fundraiser.

I set my phone down and sighed. “I don’t know why I allowed him to talk me into this.”

“Probably because you can’t say no to your lovesick friend.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes. She was constantly digging to see if I’d somehow slip up and admit that there was more to our friendship than I let on.

“I’ve told you a thousand times. It’s not like that.” This was an ongoing argument, one I lost every time. “You need to get that crazy idea out of your head.”

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