Page 67 of Never Date A Player
“But—”
“Bye.” I press End and shudder with the sheet clutched to my chest. My sex life is not a conversation I wish to have with my mother.
Lewis has his pants on and no shirt. It’s a pretty, pretty view.
I lie back and smile. “You sure you have to leave?”
His eyes skim my body covered in the sheet as though I’m naked. “Unfortunately… gotta work…” He grins widely, a naughty gleam in his eye. “Good thing I’m part owner. I set my hours.” He launches onto the bed and I bounce a foot in the air, a squeak escaping my mouth.
Lewis has only recently shown this side of himself—the playful, fun side—and that’s after I was already dangerously attracted to him.
He reaches past my head and pulls his cell phone off the nightstand, his palm running down my side while he types rapidly with his other hand. I try to peek at the screen, but he angles the phone away and gives me a punishing look.
He tosses the phone over his shoulder. “I gave myself the morning off.” He drags the sheet below my breasts and I run my hands over his shoulders, the muscles of his arms.
“Is this why you work with your dad? To set your own hours?” Totally not complaining. I fully support this work ethic, as it benefits me.
Lewis’s phone buzzes twice. “Ignore it,” he whispers, kissing the valley between my breasts.
His phone buzzes twice more and he looks up from his place near my belly button. Glaring, he reaches for the phone, one hand holding my waist in place. He stares at it and sighs heavily. Covering me with the sheet, he spins his legs off the bed and onto the floor.
I sit up. “What’s wrong?”
He kisses my cheek and stands. “My architect texted, reminding me about a client meeting. The guy’s already there.” Damn. Bummer he has to leave. “And—Mira needs something.”
My heart drops into my stomach. He’s leaving because Mira texted him, or because of the work appointment? If it’s for work, why mention Mira?
Lewis frowns at his wrinkled pants. “These look okay? I don’t have time to go home.”
I waggle my head in a way that says not so much. “Your shirt looks good though.”
Somehow, the shirt ended up draped over the lamp instead of crumpled on the floor. He pulls it on, sweater in hand, and I mourn the loss of naked Lewis and my beautiful morning.
Is this how things will be? Lewis always leaving to put out some fire for Mira? The idea depresses me.
He takes in my body beneath the sheet and frowns as if he regrets leaving. “I’ll call you later, okay?” I nod, and he leans down and pecks me on the lips, squeezing my hand. I wonder if he sees something on my face, because he kisses me again, this one tender, his thumb brushing my chin before he walks out the bedroom door.
I launch across the room and peek out the curtain, the sheet wrapped around me. Lewis climbs into his car and reverses, glancing once at the chalet before pulling onto the street and disappearing.
A hollow, achy sensation blooms near the center of my chest. I don’t know what I thought would happen after we had sex, but a desperate need to be near him wasn’t a part of it.
Is this love—with the person I said I’d never go near? The issues with Mira still exist, that much is obvious.
Friggin’ hell.
I try to go back to sleep and fail. Lying in bed, brooding, I worry that Lewis might be dangerous to my mental health. The last time I cared for someone, he betrayed me, and the feelings I had for the A-hole come nowhere near the confused mix Lewis draws out of me.
I pull on sweatpants and a tank top, hobble into the kitchen, and attempt to pour Cheerios without spilling every last one on the floor—which I’ve been known to do first thing in the morning. A knock sounds at the front door.
Cali left for her new job before I woke, along with Jaeger, and Tyler is nowhere in sight. He’s been missing a lot lately. Apparently the day his mom showed up they had some kind of confrontation about him not returning to work. No one’s sure what’s really going on with Tyler.
I’m the only one home, so this lucky guest is getting a bedheaded welcome. At least I’m not in my bathrobe.
I jerk open the sticky door to find Lewis standing on the other side. My face bursts into a wide smile, until I notice the worried look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Cali,” he says, his voice tight. “I went into work. She’s not well.” He glances at my pajama tank, and very likely my nipples poking through the thin material. My face heats, my mind flashing to what he did to them just a few hours ago. He clears his throat and gestures at my top. “We should go, but maybe put something over that?”
I run into the bedroom and grab a light sweatshirt. If Lewis canceled his other obligations to return, something terrible must have happened.
