Chapter Two
Friday morning, September 2
Dallas, TX
Kami
T he brightness of the sun seeps through the windows and into my eyes. I groan, shielding the bright rays with my hand. Ugh, such a rude awakening. Did I forget to wear my sleep mask again?
I turn to my side with my eyes still closed, not ready to greet the day quite yet, when my hand comes into contact with a hard slab of muscle.
Huh, that’s weird.
Usually I have more room than that in my bed. I glide my hand over the hard wall of skin. Is there someone in my bed? I don’t remember coming home last night.
My fingers move over one ridge of muscle after the next. The air around me smells of a strong, masculine scent.
Suddenly, memories of the night before flood back into the forefront of my mind.
Blissful kisses, an overwhelming pleasure, multiple orgasms, and those hypnotic hazel eyes. All of which are now branded into my memory.
I quickly blink my eyes open. The first thing I see is a man’s bare chest slowly rising and falling with each deep breath he takes.
Shit, I stayed the night. All I had to do was hit it and quit it. But no. I just had to let a man and his magical penis put me to sleep. Ugh. How could I let this man convince me to take one orgasm after the next?
Because he’s good at it?
I’ve always had a strict set of rules when it comes to one-night stands. If the sex is somewhere between good and amazing, I stay for a second round and then leave. Anything below good and decent, and I’m gone the second he finishes. But most importantly, a one-night stand should only remain a one-night stand. At least in my book.
My gaze slowly travels past his collarbones. Up to his Adam’s apple. Past his square jaw, and finally to his beautiful face.
I instantly recognize it as Ian’s face.
The drowsiness from waking up is quickly replaced with fear and panic.
It was just sex.
No. A night with Henry Cavill is just sex. Amazing celebrity sex but still just sex. What happened last night? That’s something different entirely. Something I don’t have the words to describe. Something unexpected. Ian caught me off guard. Opened me up in a way no one has ever done before. I can’t ignore how exposed I feel, and that he’s made me start questioning everything I’ve known about love and sex.
No. You’re reading too much into it.
Right. I need to stop dwelling on this ridiculous lapse of judgment. He’s just a guy that happened to be great at sex, and now it’s over. That’s it. Scolding myself isn’t going to get me out of this hotel room.
Taking my focus back to the sleeping man beside me, I notice his soft snoring. The warmth radiating from his body. The mere inches away my lips are from his. How tempting it would be to melt into those kisses and let him heap the pleasure on my body all over again. But I can’t. I’d be opening myself to more unnecessary heartbreak. Been there and done that.
Slowly, I inch my way to the edge of the mattress, watching his face for any signs of waking. The last thing I need is for him to wake up in the middle of my escape and for things to get awkward.
A few moments later, I feel my back almost hanging off the edge of the bed, and his arm is no longer around my waist.
I silently exhale a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished. Now, where are my clothes?
I start to rise from the mattress when I feel my legs buckling from under me and immediately sit back down. Extreme soreness travels all over my body. This feeling is worse than walking out of the gym after a HIIT class. I barely have any control of my legs.
I used to not believe the girls, much less the high-ponytailed pop singer, who would say they’d sometimes walk funny after some mind-blowing sex. Now, as I struggle to put one foot in front of the other without grunting in pain, I feel like such a bitch for not believing them.
I hear sheets rustling behind me. Shit, is he waking up? Crap, not yet. Not until I’ve gotten the hell out of Dodge. Not until I’ve forced myself to stop thinking about staying.
I turn my head back to him to see his eyes are still closed, and he’s grabbed with both arms onto the pillow I laid my head. If he’s starting to toss and turn now, it’ll only be a matter of time before he opens his eyes.
Mustering up the courage to work through the pain and the shakiness of my unsteady legs, I look around the room and quickly don my bra, thong, and dress.
Once I zip my dress back into place, I spot my clutch on the nightstand adjacent to the bed. The hotel’s clock beside it, I notice, says the time is half-past seven in the morning. Yep, definitely got to go. My bestie’s engagement party is today, and I need to start getting things, and people, squared away.
After grabbing the clutch and eventually finding my shoes, I don’t waste any more time and put the cute heels in the crook of my arm.
I’m walking up to the door to make my escape when I realize if I’m going to do the walk of shame, I should at least look halfway decent.
I instantly regret turning on the lights in the bathroom as I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes are smeared with mascara, making me look like a racoon. The color of my red lipstick is everywhere else but on my now-swollen lips. My hair is as messy as a bird’s nest. I cringe at the fact that I slept with my makeup on. This definitely needs damage control.
Finding some individually packaged makeup remover wipes provided by the hotel, I make quick work of the mess on my face. Not a miracle, but definitely something I can live with when walking back to my car. I’m barefaced and my hair is in a messy bun, but it’ll have to do.
Gently, quickly, and quietly closing the bathroom door behind me, I open the main door beside it.
I’m about to walk through the threshold when I stop myself and turn back to the naked, gorgeous man still asleep in the bed.
This man, logically, is a hookup. But emotionally…could there be more, or is that wishful thinking? I don’t want there to be, but I can’t deny that I’m hesitating at leaving so soon. Why should I feel guilty in the first place? This is a stranger, not the love of my life. Which part of me should I choose to listen to? The part that has always kept me safe from harm and heartbreak, or the one that feels natural yet terrifying and unfamiliar?
Girl, stop. He came to see you for the very same reason you did for him. Don’t delude yourself into thinking it could be anything more than a hookup.
Right, I’m being stupid. Love doesn’t, and never has, existed in one-night stands. What is the matter with me to start questioning that very basic rule? It’s one thing to be bewildered by him and his…talents. But to start questioning my entire belief system after one night?
Reluctantly, I tear my gaze from Ian’s sleeping form and force myself to close the door behind me. The click of the hinge is loud in the silence. I cringe at the noise as I all but run down the hallway. The faster I try to go, the more pain I feel. My legs threaten to fall from under me with every step. I do my best to power walk to the bank of elevators.
A few feet from the elevators, I turn my head back to the room to make sure I’m still in the clear, when I see Ian standing just outside its threshold.
“Wait, uh, red dress,” he calls as he jogs straight toward me. Crap, I’ve been made.
Panic rises in me as I rush to push the down button for one of the elevators. Any elevator. With Ian’s long legs, it probably won’t be long before he catches up to me. I just hope that by the time he does, the doors will close behind me.
But why is he chasing after me? Most guys wouldn’t want to talk to their hookups the morning after. If they do at all, it’s to tell them to see themselves out or ask them nicely to leave. He already got what he wanted. Now that it’s all said and done, I’m no longer needed. At least I shouldn’t be. What else could he possibly want?
The ding of the elevator and the doors sliding open to an empty compartment have me exhaling in a sigh of relief. Rushing inside, I furiously push the close button multiple times. The closer his footsteps sound, the faster my heart beats and the more insistently I press. Not just from the realization that he could get to me before I can leave, but because maybe…something in me is still saying to stop running, to stay.
I shake my head. “I can’t. It meant nothing.”
After what feels like forever, the doors finally begin to close. Just then Ian’s face comes into view. “Wait, I didn’t catch your—”
The doors close before I can hear the end of that sentence. That’s right, I never told him my name. I know his, but he doesn’t know mine. I realize it’s kind of a blessing.
It’s probably for the best.
Soon enough, I’ll just be another faceless woman he had sex with however many nights ago, and he’ll move on to the next flavor of the night.
Friday Evening, September 2
Dallas
Kami
“Why did I choose to wear heels today?” I breathe heavily as I haul ass down the few blocks from the office of KH Industries, the tech company I work at, to a bar I’ve never heard of, called the Brick.
Because you’re a shoe whore.
My wedges threaten to trip me with every step down the pavement. It’s one thing to walk around the bars with girlfriends in these, but to run in them? Hell no, that’s just asking for blisters the next day.
I decide to keep a pace somewhere between a power walk and a jog. Definitely not something I intend to repeat. But regardless, there’s no way in hell I’m missing my bestie getting engaged.
After everything my best friend and now-former roommate, Kiera Young, has gone through, she deserves happiness. Though her relationship with KH Industries co-CEO Jonathan Knight started as rather…unusual, I couldn’t be happier for them.
Despite the fact that it’s now early September, the sun beats down on me like Satan’s ball sack. I wish for a breath of cool wind to hit me.
My orange, knee-length dress flows behind me as I continue down the path. Sweat starts to form on my brow. Ugh, I would have taken a taxi if I’d known it was going to be this hot. Then again, I live in Texas. Summer isn’t over until early November at the earliest.
I sigh in relief as I make the corner and see the sign for the bar Jonathan had said to be at. Today is special, and I’d never forgive myself if I missed this important event.
After trekking the last few steps to the entrance, I pull the door open. Immediately, the cool air conditioning hits my hot skin, welcoming me with seemingly open arms. A few moments of taking in the sweet, cool air pass before I scan the place for familiar, friendly faces.
Looking beyond the cute decorations I know Jonathan’s sister, Mia Knight, and Kiera had put up just hours before, I look from the bar’s wooden decor to the large table stretching across.
I make my way to a waving Mia and Kiera and sit on one of the stools beside them. “Hey, ladies. You did a fantastic job.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Kiera,” Mia praises. She looks stunning in the little black dress I lent her that hugs all her curves and makes her look absolutely gorgeous.
“Oh, no, Mia is the mastermind. I just did whatever she told me to do,” Kiera demurs, her bright smile contagious as ever. I snicker to myself at what’s about to unfold.
Since early July, we’ve had Kiera believing this party was about celebrating the latest deal we’ve made with the top PR guru and fixer in Texas, Maya Thompson.
While we are celebrating that, too, that didn’t stop Jonathan from wanting to propose at the same time. From helping Jonathan find the perfect ring to secretly making flight reservations for Kiera’s family, it felt like something out of Mission Impossible to make sure Kiera stayed in the dark, especially when she works as his assistant.
Now that the day has finally arrived and Jonathan will be here in a few with Kiera’s parents and sisters in tow, I struggle to hide my excitement.
I laugh at Kiera’s statement. “What are we drinking tonight?”
“We haven’t decided yet.” Mia cocks her head. “Champagne? Wine? Tequila? What’s your poison?”
On the one hand, tequila will always have my heart. But seeing as this is a special occasion, the drink should be special too.
At that moment, out of my peripheral, I notice a tall figure from behind the bar walking toward us. Perfect timing!
I turn to watch him lay down napkins in front of us when a wave of recognition—followed by sheer panic—hits me hard.
“What can I get—” He stops midsentence when he looks up at me. His facial expression matches my own.
That’s the guy from last night. The guy that I took to bed and who rocked my world better than any I’ve had before. The guy who somehow managed to get under my skin and learn me inside and out. What the fuck is he doing here? Does he work here?
“Kami,” Mia breaks the silence, “this is Ian. He owns the Brick.” The casual tone in her voice tells me she’s unaware of what’s happening between Ian and me.
Finally, Ian’s face morphs into a smile as he extends his hand to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…Kami.”
I join his gaze, reluctantly giving him my hand. “It’s um…nice to meet you, too.” My cheeks, without a doubt, are as red as a fire truck.
I try to pull my hand free when Ian tightens his grip. “Say, have we met before?” His tone is obviously filled with sarcasm.
I play dumb. “Nope. Don’t remember meeting you. I guess I just have one of those faces.” I paste on a smile, hoping to hide the complete lie.
He doesn’t look convinced. Figures.
“You think that’s it?” He wraps his free hand around my elbow and draws me closer. I gasp as he whispers in my ear. “How could I forget your sweet pussy and your cries of ecstasy each time you came?”
His sultry voice immediately has my girl parts fluttering.
No. Bad libido. Bad.
I push him away. The questions I had when I woke up beside him this morning now come back as though someone were screaming in my face. My head is telling me to stay away from him, yet my body continues to have other ideas. I seriously need to get myself examined or something.
“Kami, do you and Ian know each other?” Kiera asks. If only she knew.
How do I answer that question without telling her how in one night he unnerved me in some of the best ways possible? How he emotionally opened me raw, captivated my soul, and I’m now possibly enamored by him? How much I want him all over again still.
“No, never met him before,” I continue the lie.
“So strange. I feel like I know you.” He gives a knowing smirk.
Cheeky bastard.
I’m about to give him a similar remark when I see Jonathan coming up behind Kiera. A small, velvet box is in his hand. Right, it’s time. Talk about saved by the ring.
While everyone is distracted by Jonathan’s speech, I move farther away from Ian staring at me and stand behind Kiera. I watch as Kiera’s face fills with surprise to see her family, followed by a shocked and tearful expression at seeing the beautiful engagement ring.
I watch as she stares in awe at the piece of jewelry. Everyone waits with seemingly bated breath for the reply to one of the most important questions in her life.
When no sound has come out of her yet, I prod her in the ribs. “Kiera? This is the part where you say yes.”
My words seem to bring her back to the present. She gives him multiple happy-tear yeses, throwing herself into Jonathan’s arms.
Everyone cheers for the now soon-to-be husband and wife. Men pat him on the back with congrats while all the women congregate around Kiera, trying to get a good look at the rock on her finger.
As much as I’m enjoying the moment though, I shift uncomfortably where I stand, feeling Ian’s stare as he stands beside me. Of all the hookups I could have awkwardly run into, why did it have to be him?
I quickly try to leave, but before I can, Ian stands in front of me. Towers over me. His piercing eyes have me frozen where I am.
“So… Kami,” he says with a smile. “I have to say it’s nice to put a beautiful face with such a gorgeous name.” He chuckles. “And I was beginning to think your name was That Sassy Latina.”
I hesitate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Oh, but you do.”
I look around the bar to see if anyone is seeing this, but everyone is too distracted to notice. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but this isn’t funny.”
He shakes his head. “There’s no game. I’d like to go out with you sometime.”
“Sorry, pal. That’s not how a one-night stand works.”
“Who says it can’t be more? We did meet on a dating app.”
I shake my head. “So what? We hooked up. That’s it. Why complicate things?”
“And that was possible because we met on a dating app. If you just wanted to hook up, why would you use a dating app?”
I get where he’s coming from, but that’s just how hookup culture is.
“Most people use dating apps to hook up all the time. Just because they say it’s a dating app, doesn’t mean people use it like one.”
“And just because most people use the app to hook up, doesn’t mean we have to do the same,” he points out.
Does he want to get to know me because I’m interesting, or does he just want to get laid? I try to focus on this question yet can’t help but notice how close his face is to mine. His lips inches away from touching mine. The thought of his hands—and mouth—all over me again consumes almost my every thought.
God dammit, not now. Keep yourself in check.
As good as the sex was, I can’t let him have me. Not again.
I do my best to shove down my growing desire. “Let me make something clear. Our time together was a fling and nothing more.”
He pauses, scanning me. “You say you’re not interested…yet your body is telling me otherwise.”
Holy crap. It’s like he can read my mind. “Did you not hear what I—”
“I heard what you said,” he interrupts. “But let me make something clear. When I see something I like, I never give up until it’s mine. You are no exception.”
That’s actually kind of hot.
I shake my head. “Yeah, well, you should give up now because I’m not looking for commitment.” I can function perfectly fine without a long-term relationship.
He crosses his arms over his muscular chest. Damn, how is this man making me all but come undone, and he hasn’t even touched me? “I don’t think that’s true. And, hun…that just makes you more interesting to me.”
I should be creeped out. I should be seeing red flags galore, yet there’s a part of me that tightens with excitement at his insistence. Like the damsel in distress to the knight in shining armor.
I roll my eyes, pretending he doesn’t faze me. “Go find interests somewhere else, because you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
He hit a nerve last night. More than I care to admit. And the more he pokes at that nerve, the more vulnerable I feel.
I’m scared he sees everything I’ve spent years trying to hide behind an emotional wall I built so long ago. I tried holding back, but the more pleasure he gave, the harder it was not to give in. To do that all over again, I might as well wave the white flag before the battle has even begun.
“Keep telling yourself that, but I remember you crying out my name over and over and over…”
I shake my head. “Okay, okay shut up.”
“Kami,” I hear Mia across the room. “Come take shots with us.”
Thank god, a perfect excuse to get out of this conversation.
I paste on a fake smile as I start to walk away from him. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but my friends need me. Have a nice life.”
I don’t wait for a reply; I rush over to the large group of people, and down the first shot I see on the table next to them. Tequila. Thank god.
Ian
Kami. Her name is Kami.
The name suits her. Cute, sassy, and incredibly sexy. I still mentally kick myself for forgetting to ask that small yet important question.
I knew it’d be a given the bar would be packed. I don’t know much about Jonathan’s girl, apart from meeting her one time at my bar, but I’m happy for them regardless.
And then she walked in.
What are the fucking odds that who I thought was the one that got away would walk into my bar and, on top of that, know some of my closest friends?
I thought, at first, I was imagining things. That my eyes were playing tricks on me. But there she was. As though life had given me a moment. As though life was telling me I met her for a reason. I may be reaching, but one thing is for sure, I’m not going to let this chance go to waste.
When most of the partygoers leave around midnight, all who’re left is me, Jonathan, Kiera, Mia, and…Kami.
I see her clearing off the decorations from the walls and walk over to her.
I open my mouth to speak when she pushes a ball of streamers, empty paper plates, and cups into my hands.
“Here. This is trash.” She quickly walks away as though her very fine ass was on fire.
It’s cute how she thinks she can avoid me.
I turn to the nearest trash can, dump the material inside, and walk back to her.
I pretend to busy myself at another table beside her, looking over in her direction every now and then. She doesn’t make eye contact, but I know she’s aware of me. Her body is stiff, she seems frazzled, and is glancing everywhere else but at me.
“Hey,” I greet her casually.
“Hi.” She’s short with her reply. Unemotional. Definitely avoidant.
“I think tonight went well, don’t you think?”
Only silence from her.
“You know what? Forget about dinner. Why don’t we get coffee sometime? I know this great—”
“You haven’t had many hookups, have you?” she says, interrupting me.
“I have. I just want to pick up where we left off last night.”
She places her hands on her hips. “Last night was a blip in the past.”
“It’s interesting how you say that because I recall fucking each other’s brains out all night long and then you sneaking out without saying goodbye.”
She groans in annoyance. “I’ve said it once tonight, and I will say it again. We fucked. That’s it. Are you pissed about not getting a proper goodbye or something?”
She’s missing my point on purpose. Exactly why? I’m not sure.
“Give me this small chance, and if you still don’t like me by the end of it, just say so and you’ll never hear from me again.” At least then I’ll know her judgment of me won’t come from a place of deflection.
I watch her face contort into an expression that seems as though she’s debating with herself.
Did last night affect her as it affected me? Or could it be only wishful thinking clouding my judgment? Just when I thought I had so many questions after last night, I’m now facing more.
A few moments pass before her face slides back into a neutral expression. “You seem like a nice guy, but I’m not interested.”
“Let me try to change your mind,” I insist.
She hesitates. “Thanks, but no thanks. I-I’m too busy.”
“You weren’t too busy when you let me rest my head between your legs,” I whisper in her ear.
She scoffs. “You’re disgusting, you know that?” After grabbing a wad of trash, she aggressively shoves it in a nearby trash can.
I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s the truth, and you know it.”
“Read my lips. Not. Interested.”
“Give me one good reason why, and I’ll leave you alone.”
She stands in panicked silence. Her mouth is moving, but no words are coming out. She can’t give me an answer. Could she be struggling for words because deep down she wants to say yes? If that is true, what could be holding her back?
I have two choices: Do the smart thing and let her go, or do the dumb thing and don’t stop until she orders me away. If she’s not serious, then she’s not serious. But I want her to give me the benefit of the doubt before she’s completely made up her mind.
I’d like to think I’m smart about a lot of things, but with her I don’t think I can be.
Something happened between us last night. I swear it felt like a connection. And based on her hesitance right now, I think she felt it, too.
I interject. “All I’m saying is sometimes you have to test drive the car before you buy it.”
She chuckles. “Trust me, I’ve looked at the car and got all that I needed.”
“You sure? You haven’t finished popping the hood, baby.” I wink.
“No thanks, Carvana. I’m all good.” She walks off.
I laugh at her comeback. Sharp and full of wit. Hell, yeah.
I spend the next half hour finishing up the cleaning process behind the bar. Though most of my focus is on my work, it doesn’t stop me from looking over at her every now and then.
I’ll let her process things for a bit, but I fully intend on winning her over.