Page 56 of The Playboy

The only thing we had in common was sex.

That wasn’t enough.

Even if I wanted more, I needed it to be with someone who was relatable. Who had just one bed, not an entire company of beds in locations I could only fantasize about visiting.

This had been fun. He’d given me the escape that I needed.

But after our shower, this was over, and it was never happening again.

I got off the bed and walked past the bottom of the mattress—the spot where he’d knelt as he lapped between my legs, where he’d wrapped those legs around his waist and slid inside me. Where he’d lifted me and held me against the wall and made me come.

Three times.

Every inch of this room triggered a memory.

I needed out.

I needed to forget.

I needed—

My thoughts came to a screeching halt as something on Macon’s nightstand caught my attention.

Something I hadn’t seen until now.

I checked the doorway to the bathroom, making sure I was still alone and he wasn’t about to walk back into the bedroom, before I carefully made my way over to that side of the bed.

There was a small piece of paper on the nightstand. It was attached to a notepad, where the hotel logo was at the top, followed by a mix of curly and capital letters written in black ink.

My heart pounded as I lifted the small stack of paper and read the first line.

Thank you for the tip you left me this morning.

But the polite tone quickly shifted as the writer of the note began to reprimand Macon for the state in which he’d left his room.

THAT condition, I read.Disgusting. A total nightmare … gagged a few times.

When I got to the end, I rescanned the words a second time.

A third.

And when I reached the last period, my eyes focused on that little dot, my hands shaking even harder.

My chest tightened.

Air was no longer filling my lungs like I needed it to.

“Brooklyn, are you coming?” Macon yelled from the bathroom. “The water’s hot.”

The water?

Shit, that was right; I was supposed to meet Macon in the shower. But I’d been in such a daze over the note that I forgot he was even in the room.

Or why I was here.

Or what I had told him I’d do.

“Be right there,” I shouted back.

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