Unexpected Confessions (Baby Confessions #5)

Chapter 1

Sadie

“Well? Has it arrived?” asked my best friend, Gabriella. I could practically see the coy smirk that inevitably crept across her lips on the other end of the phone.

“Not yet,” I said as I plopped my leather handbag on the small entryway table and kicked off my black pumps, the front door shutting behind me. My feet practically screamed in relief as they met the cool, hard wood.

“It said it was going to be delivered today,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“You’re really worked up by this, aren’t you?

” I asked as I looked around the living room.

It still didn’t feel like home yet, but then again I had only been here for a few days, and it technically wasn’t my apartment.

It was Martin’s, an Airbnb host that I practically begged to take me in. I was desperate.

“I’m just worried about you…” said Gabriella.

“You act like not getting laid is life-threatening.” I rolled my eyes, as if she could see me all the way in Boston.

“There have been studies…”

“There have not!” I laughed, padding into the corner kitchen and opening up one of the white upper cabinets.

I stood on my tiptoes and reached for a wine glass, pulling it down and carefully setting it on the white marbled countertop.

I grabbed the bottle of red wine that sat on the counter from yesterday’s market trip, uncorked it, and poured a generous serving.

The sound of the glug glug glug of the crimson liquid relaxed me after a long workday.

It was cruel to be forced in to work on a Saturday, but it was busy season, and I would never say no.

Aside from the much-deserved glass of wine, if Gabriella’s present did arrive tonight, I needed something to work up the nerve to use whatever she had picked out and a little buzz would help.

Gabriella had spent the better part of last week scouring the web for the best reviewed sex toys to break my dry spell.

“Well, maybe it’s not life-threatening, but I do know there’s a study that says having orgasms makes you live longer.”

Okay. I’m pretty sure I had read that article in one of my glossy magazine subscriptions. If you couldn’t trust Cosmopolitan, what could you trust?

“What did you end up sending me?” I asked curiously, padding into the bedroom.

“You’ll have to wait and see, but they came highly rated.”

“They?” I asked.

“You can never have enough. I just sent you the tracking link, by the way.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I said with a shake of my head, even though I could feel myself growing impatient for her gifts to arrive.

The truth was, I needed a release. After being dumped two weeks ago, I had started to grow restless.

Still, I hadn’t used a sex toy in years, which was why I needed the wine to take the edge off in case I had the opportunity to use one—or more—tonight.

“You know you love me,” said Gabriella with a taunting confidence.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.

“How is the new place?” asked Gabriella, changing the subject.

“Still getting used to it,” I said, glancing around the bedroom with furniture that wasn’t mine.

The one large window looked out over the busy street below with a small glimpse at Central Park, shades of sherbet from the setting sun filling the room.

It was a view I could get used to, but knew I shouldn’t because it wasn’t for forever.

It was just temporary until I sorted my life out, which right now felt like an impossible task.

“I’ll come visit soon, okay?” Gabriella demanded, as if she knew what was on my mind. Best friends had that way about them, no matter how many miles separated you.

“Okay. I’d like that.”

“In the meantime, just stay busy with work and…your new toys.” She stifled a giggle.

“I’ll let you know when they arrive.”

“Bye!” she said in a sing-song voice.

I hit the red end button on my screen and pressed the side button to make the screen go dark.

I tossed my phone on the bed before rummaging through the black dresser against the wall.

I found my usual weekend attire, a pair of worn leggings and a soft knit sweater, and changed out of my work clothes.

I walked back to the living room and plopped onto the couch.

I took another long sip of wine, letting the oaky flavor sit on my tongue before washing it down my throat, warming my insides.

With a sigh, I sank further into the deep green velvet couch.

It was a good couch. My eyes scanned the framed black-and-white prints on the walls.

Martin decorated well. My mind traveled to what he might look like.

I wondered if he was single. That was when I realized just how desperate I was for some sort of release.

I was fantasizing about an Airbnb host I had never met or even spoken to on the phone.

“Get a grip,” I said quietly to myself.

As if someone heard my silent plea, the intercom by the front door buzzed loudly, making me start, almost spilling my wine. The package. It had to be the package. I practically leaped from the couch. I set my wine glass on the table and walked swiftly toward the intercom.

“Yes?” I asked eagerly, pressing the button.

“I have a delivery for a Sadie Lane,” said a male’s voice through the speaker.

“That’s me. I’ll buzz you in.”

I pressed the button to let the delivery guy into the building through the downstairs lobby door and paced the wood floor, waiting for any signs of life beyond the door.

After several minutes and no sounds of steps outside or a thunk of a package, I looked through the peephole.

There was no sign of anyone. I opened the door and looked down to the charcoal gray carpeted floor of the hallway to find nothing at my feet.

I furrowed my brow and looked on either side of me, down both sides of the hall, but there was no sign of the delivery guy.

It wouldn’t have taken him this long. I’m only on the third floor.

I stepped back inside my apartment and walked back to the couch where my phone sat nestled in the cushions.

I pulled it out and opened the tracking link that Gabriella had texted me.

It said the package was delivered. I scrolled down to the photo for proof of delivery, and saw the box sitting on the familiar dark gray carpet.

I looked closer at the apartment number and realized it had been delivered to unit 001.

Mine is 100. Not only was it delivered to the wrong apartment, but it was left at the penthouse suite.

“Shit.” I breathed out, as my stomach did a backflip.

I had seen the owner of the penthouse the day I had moved in when he had stepped into the elevator with me.

I didn’t even have to see him press the button for PH to know he was someone powerful.

It practically radiated off him. He was one of those people you automatically felt inferior next to.

Like you shouldn’t even breathe the same air.

He already towered over me, but I felt significantly small without the noticeable height difference.

Not only did he ooze wealth and power, but he was ridiculously good-looking.

I barely brought myself to look at him as I practically cowered in the corner of the elevator, but I got enough sneaky glances in to see that he was older than me by a few years.

He was one of those men who surely got better with age, with dark hair sprinkled with a few grays, and piercing blue eyes that never once looked in my direction.

The suit he wore had to have been custom-tailored to his body because I could see the ripples of muscles through the material, like it were a structured second skin.

The one thing that stuck out to me was the unhappy look he wore across his face.

If that’s what he looked like with a scowl, I couldn’t imagine what he looked like with a smile.

To think that a box of various sex toys with my name on it sat at his doorstep was absolutely mortifying.

I swallowed hard, thinking about how I was going to get my package without him knowing.

I couldn’t just take the elevator up and retrieve it.

I needed an access card for the elevator to even take me to the floor.

With my heart beginning to beat frantically, I paced the living room and tried to come up with an idea.

I could go down to the front desk and explain the situation, but they would probably try calling him and I couldn’t let him see me, knowing my blushing face would somehow give away what was in the box, if the packaging didn’t already sell me out.

I could try to find a door guy to give a couple bucks to, to go retrieve it for me, but no one here knew me.

I technically wasn’t a resident. I doubted they would trust me.

I was starting to feel hopeless with each minute that passed, knowing he could be coming or going at any minute and finding the package at his doorstep.

I had to at least try to spare my humiliation.

I had to get up there. I looked around the apartment that was now changing from orange to purple hues, another reminder that I was losing time, to the large window that led out to the fire escape.

I walked over and pressed my shoulder against it, pushing it up and open.

I popped my head out, the city lights twinkling to life as my gaze followed out and up the metal stairs that seemed to go on forever.

With a slow gulp, I gave myself a reassuring nod before carefully climbing outside onto the fire escape.

The cool evening breeze welcomed me as I began my ascent.

Like most penthouses, his sat on the top floor of the building.

I kept my shaky hands on the stair railings, forcing myself to look up and not down as I made my way up.

I crept quietly past windows of other tenants who were probably settling in for the evening after a workday, praying no one saw me as I slunk past. This was by far one of the most stupid things I had ever done, and I’d done my fair share of stupid things recently.

Finally, I reached the top of the fire escape.

I had reached the penthouse. The breeze was cooler up here on the twenty-something floor.

I lost count a while back. Not because I’m bad at math, but because I was fearing for my life the whole time and didn’t want to remind myself of just how many stories it would take to fall to my death.

I pressed my back against the brick wall, the breeze growing stronger as it pulled strands of my auburn hair loose, whipping them across my face.

I took a deep breath as my fingers pressed into the rough, red stone.

I stayed as far away from the outer railing of the stairs and wondered what to do next.

Was I really about to break into this man’s apartment?

It had seemed like a logical idea down in my apartment, but now that I was up here, I started to talk myself out of it.

This was crazy. I took one quick peek down at the city below and shuddered.

There was no way in hell I was going back down this rickety stairwell.

I inched along the wall until I came to a window.

I turned and placed my hands on the black metal pane.

I held my breath as I pushed up. To my surprise, it was unlocked.

I could hardly believe my luck, or that someone wealthy enough to afford a penthouse suite would leave their window unlocked.

Then again, not many people would climb a fire escape to reach it.

I carefully slid the window open and held my breath, waiting for an alarm to sound.