Chapter 3
Ruby
When I leave the hotel room the moment the elevator doors slide shut, and I’m alone inside the elevator, my brain snaps.
“What the hell did you just do?”
I answer myself because clearly I’m losing it. “You slept with a stranger. A sexy stranger. A possibly dangerous stranger. A man with arms like a Greek statue and a mouth made of pure corruption.”
I pinch my forehead. “No. Stop that. Reality. Focus. You’re not doing this again.”
My phone buzzes the second I hit the sidewalk.
The NASTY NINE group chat explodes in all caps like they’ve been waiting for my signal from the underworld.
I read it. I die inside. I reply with lies and half-truths and mild threats.
Then I head home, put my phone face down on the counter, and collapse onto my couch.
Deep breath.
“He was just a one-night stand,” I tell myself.
Just a man I’ll never see again. Just a name I’ll forget by Wednesday. Just a moment of weakness and vodka plus very, very talented hands.
I pull a blanket over my head.
“You’ll never see him again,” I insist, as if repetition makes it true. “It’s over. Completely, absolutely over.” My body betrays me immediately, remembering the way he said my name. Ruby. My thighs squeeze together involuntarily.
“No,” I say firmly, muffled under the blanket. “We’re not thinking about him. We are moving on. We have work, we have dignity, and we have a job to keep.”
I peek out.
My Sexy Nine folder sits on the coffee table like it knows everything.
I reach out, slowly, dramatically, like I’m in a soap opera.
I flip it open.
Bachelor Seven.
J.C.
Private investor.
Interview pending.
I stare at the initials.
And suddenly my stomach drops.
“Oh shit.”
Because last night… he told me his name.
Jaxon.
My pulse picks up.
“No. No, no, nope.” I shake my head like an Etch A Sketch. “Coincidence, has to be a different man. A different Jaxon. It’s a common name, right?. There are probably thirty thousand Jaxons in the city. Don’t panic, don’t assume, don’t….”
My phone buzzes again.
Ava:
Did you get his last name??
Me:
No, and it doesn’t matter.
I’m never seeing him again.
I lock my phone, toss it across the couch, and shove the folder under a pillow like hiding it will make the problem disappear.
One night.
One mistake.
One sexy stranger.
It’s fine. It’s over. It’s done.
I curl up and take a breath, telling myself the universe isn’t cruel enough to bring him back into my life.
Right?
…Right?