Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
As I walked through the hotel lobby, I tugged on the ties of my overcoat, hoping it concealed what was hiding underneath.
The whole thing felt ridiculous. After we’d dropped our stuff off in Ollie’s room, she’d immediately dragged me out into the city in search of the perfect ensemble to surprise Damien.
While I wanted to blame Ollie, this was equally my fault.
I might have let it slip that I’d never bothered with lingerie in the past, and a plan hatched in her mind.
Now, only hours after landing, I stepped back into our hotel in a black trench coat, picked to conceal the matching black lace set, garters attached to my ridiculous thigh highs hidden underneath.
I had to admit, when I looked at myself in the mirror at the store, I barely recognized myself.
Sensual confidence made my spine straighten, and a sly smirk formed on my lips as I imagined Damien’s face.
But that was before I had to walk through downtown Miami in ninety-degree heat with a thong riding up my ass.
“Please,” Ollie teased. “You’re about to show up and surprise the man in lingerie. In a few hours when you can’t walk, you’ll be thanking me.”
“Only if he doesn’t slam the door in my face,” I grumbled, fixing my sunglasses.
Despite it being mid-afternoon, tons of people filled the lobby.
Just my luck. My steps quickened, and my hands reached down to cover the slit.
No one’s eyes seemed to be focused on me—their attention was on their phones or their companions, but I couldn’t take the chance, not when one wrong move meant exposing my goods to the world.
“Never going to happen,” Ollie answered as we stepped into the elevator. “Damien is literally obsessed with you. My money’s on him coming in his pants the moment he sees you.”
I snorted. “That doesn’t happen in real life.”
“It should. If the man doesn’t attack you the moment he sees that outfit, send him my way.
I’ll knock some sense into him.” She reached out, pressing the buttons for her floor and the ninth one above it.
Parker slipped her Damien’s room number when we got here, but after our excursion, I was on my own.
When the elevator landed on Ollie’s floor, she squeezed my hand. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
A laugh escaped my throat as she sauntered down the hall, ready to torment Parker for a few hours before he needed to get to bed.
On the flight down here, Ollie spent hours filling me in on how the post-season worked in baseball.
While the Hawks were already in the playoffs because they held the third-best record in their section, their opponents were desperate for a wild card slot, so the competition on the field tomorrow would be fierce.
My eyes darted up to the numbers above the door, studying them as we climbed further into the sky.
This was a bad idea. Damien needed his rest, and most nights before a big game, we just hung out, watching a movie on the couch, him needing to conserve his energy for the field.
When this first started, I would have stayed away, not wanting to impede his pre-game rituals.
Lately, though, his routine had become enmeshed in mine, and I liked being there for him, enjoyed ogling him as he stretched, making fun of the disgusting smoothies he guzzled down before darting out of his apartment.
I liked him.
Maybe even more than liked.
“Oh God,” I chuffed to myself. “What are you? Twelve years old? Get a grip, Brianna.”
By the time I reached Damien’s floor, my pulse had to be in the high triple digits.
The elevator doors opened, and I rushed out, searching through the plated room numbers as fast as my feet would let me.
Room 918. This was it. If Parker was right, Damien sat on the other side, mentally preparing for their next series.
My heart raced, imagining him lying on the bed, a sleepy grin on his face as he watched more tape from the other team.
Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to see him, couldn’t wait to hold him in my arms.
But when I reached up to knock, my hand refused to move.
This was out of my comfort zone. Hell, it was so out of character for me, I felt like I was watching someone take over my body.
Not only because of my outfit, but because I was putting myself on the line.
Even though I’d talked to Damien a couple of times while he was out of town, never once had we discussed my coming out to visit him.
Yet here I was, standing on the threshold of his hotel room after traveling hours to be by his side.
The possibility of rejection crashed over me, and I was unsure if I’d ever be able to recover if Damien shot me down.
As I debated rushing back down to Ollie’s room, the door yanked open, taking the choice away from me.
Damien stood right in front of me, his phone in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.
My mouth gaped as I stared at him dressed casually in a vintage-style Hawks shirt and with his dark hair still damp from the shower.
God, how did he get more attractive? It had only been five days since we last saw each other—not even a week—and yet, my mouth watered like I’d been drowning and he was the freshest water on Earth.
But when I met his gaze, Damien’s eyes were wide, almost as if I was the last person he expected to see on the other side. Instead of the excitement I’d been fool-heartedly expecting, fear flooded his eyes. “Bri, what are you doing here?”
Tucking away my insecurities, I attempted to smile up at him, but it felt strained.
“I came out to surprise you. Ollie and Hadley were heading down here for the series, and they asked me to tag along.” As the words left my mouth, he peeked over his shoulder, pulling the door closed behind him.
I followed the movement, my smile dropping at the grimace on his face. “Unless it’s a bad time?”
“No,” he said, dragging his hand over his face. “It’s just…Bri—”
“D, who is it?”
The sound of a woman’s voice inside his hotel room made my blood turn to ice. A familiar ache crushed through my chest, and my lungs refused to fill with air. Reality snapped back into focus. It all made sense—the shock on his face, the way he blocked the entrance with his body.
Someone else was in his hotel room.
Flashes of him in a stranger’s embrace replaced the images of him in bed watching tape, of him claiming her as thoroughly as he did me. Did he whisper sweet words of adoration in her ear? Build up her confidence so she’d show him pieces of herself she’d hidden for years?
Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes. How had I been so foolish?
I’d always known about Damien’s reputation, seen the string of broken hearts he left wherever he went.
And yet, for some reason, I convinced myself we were different, that even with no labels on our relationship, he’d keep his word that he’d only be with me.
So, I did the only thing I could.
I turned and ran.