Page 65 of Playoff
I’d give her a little time to recover. It would be rude to wake her up and kick her out of bed. So I pulled the duvet over her and crawled in beside her.
“Shit!”
The expletive brought me back to consciousness. That and the woman squirming out from under my arm and scrambling out of bed. It was dark. Late. I’d dozed off. When I checked the time I saw that it was three a.m. I flipped on the light.
Jess blinked as her eyes adjusted. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“No problem. I fell asleep too.” I hadn’t slept with anyone for a long, long time. Not literally slept. Normally I got twitchy if a bed partner tried to stay, but I hadn’t tonight.
There were no secrets with Jess. I knew who she was, and what my family had done to her. I knew this was just sex. But I also knew some of her secrets, and we were comfortable together. And, this was the last time. It had to be.
She straightened up her sexy red lace underwear. Nipples hidden back in the low cups, the panties back in proper position.
“Sorry. Those might be ruined.” Worth it, for me.
She shrugged. “They weren’t getting a lot of use anyway.”
I held back a smile. I didn’t want anyone else seeing them. “I could keep them, if you’re just going to throw them out,” I offered.
She lifted her eyebrows. “You keep trophies?”
Damn. I didn’t, but I wanted a memento of tonight. I put on a smirk. “Those are pretty hot. I almost need them as proof that you don’t have a collection of the most boring women’s underwear in the city.”
“Sorry. You’ll have to make do with memories.” She picked up pieces of clothing, putting them back on.
I would never forget tonight. But I couldn’t tell her that. I sat up, reaching for the sweatpants I’d been wearing before we got naked. It was armor of a sort.
“You don’t have to get up.”
But it didn’t feel right to just wave her off while I lay here. “I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”
“Good idea. Thanks.” She sat on the side of her bed to pull on her socks.
“Will you have any problems when you get back to your place?”
“You mean with my brother?” She stood, shaking her head. “No, Justin and I are both adults. I’ve had sleepovers—there’s no judgment.”
Well, maybe not with the previous guys, but with me? The air suddenly felt cold.
She pulled her coat on and I opened the bedroom door, checking the hallway. It was mostly dark, a night-light shining on the floor.
“All clear.”
She followed me down the hallway to the door. She fidgeted with a button on her coat, not meeting my eyes. “Well, um, thanks for the booty call?”
“Thanks for showing me the sexy stuff.”
She poked me in the chest. “The red lace wasn’t the sexy stuff. What was under it was.”
“You’re right.” The moment felt incomplete, like I should lean over and kiss her goodbye. For the last time. But that would only make this parting more difficult. I opened the door, took a quick glance out, and held it back for her to leave.
I watched her walk to the elevator, push the button, and wait for a car. She looked back and I lifted a hand. Then the doors opened, closed, and she was gone.
I shut the door, feeling strangely melancholy. I was made for hookups, get off and get out, not this falling-asleep shit. I headed back to my room and jumped when something moved.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Fitch said, voice gruff.
“Damn it, Fitch, what are you doing up?”
