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Chapter Ten

T ate

“Ugh,” I groan, patting around on the bedside table for my phone.

My hand smacks an empty water bottle, sending it flying to the floor, before I finally locate my irritating device. I raise my head high enough to see the screen and click end on the alarm. Thank God .

“There are few things I hate more than alarms,” I say, smiling as I roll over to pull Kelly against me again. “But I guess we should— Kelly ?”

The sheets are pulled back, and the pillow is still dented from her head, but she’s gone.

“Kelly?”

I sit up, wide awake. I listen closely for the sound of running water or her voice from the living room. Crickets.

Maybe she’s in the bath again. My lips twitch. Or maybe she couldn’t resist that blueberry pie any longer.

I yank the sheets off my body and get to my feet.

“Hey, Kel? Where are you?”

My stomach tightens as I peer into the bathroom.

It’s just how we left it last night. The tub is half filled with water.

Towels are on the floor. My Dopp kit is halfway under the vanity because I swept it off the counter so Kelly could sit in its place.

It was the perfect height for me to cage her in and worship her body.

Long, leisurely kisses. Sucking those perfect, heavy tits. Running my hands over rounded hips and stomach. Her body moved beneath my hands, and her little moans and whispers were so damn hot.

God, that’s one fantastic memory.

I grab my hardening cock and make my way into the living room.

“Kelly?” I might be late to the conference, but I can’t leave this room without fucking her one more time. “Where are you, gorgeous?”

I round the corner. Then come to a full stop.

“What the hell?”

My heartbeat quickens as I scan the room.

Her dress is gone. I don’t see her heels.

“What’s going on?” I ask the empty room.

I wander through it like a lost little boy, looking for any sign of her.

My brain races through last night. The last thing I remember is her curling up next to me with her head on my chest and falling asleep.

Did I say something wrong? Did I push her too far? Did I make her uncomfortable ?

I force a swallow, running a hand over my head.

“She couldn’t have just left me.”

I make a face, so fucking confused, but just as I pass the desk, I notice a slice of pie on a paper plate. I glance over my shoulder to see the pie box is gone, too.

The hotel-embossed notepad is beside the pie.

Thanks for an incredible night.

Call me. Xo

I jerk the notepad off the desk and read it again. “No fucking way.”

The room is eerily quiet as I contemplate this peculiar situation. She left me? This has never happened before. I usually have to invent a meeting or an obligation to get women to leave.

And Kelly left me?

“This is bullshit,” I say, picking up the phone and calling the front desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Brewer. This is Connie. How may I be of service?”

“Good morning, Connie. I had a guest in my room last night who is also staying here. Can you tell me what room Kelly Kapowski is in?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Brewer. I can’t give out that information.”

I scan the room again. My sights land on a lacy black bra peeking out from under the sofa.

“I understand,” I say, picking up Kelly’s bra. It dangles off my fingertips. “But she left something … personal in my room. She might be looking for it later.”

“That’s unfortunate. Would you like me to send someone up to get it? We can put it in our Lost and Found.”

Not a chance .

“I think I better keep this in my possession, Connie.”

“As you wish. I’m happy to put a note in there that you have one of her items, if you’d like?”

“You know what? I would like that. Thank you.”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Yeah, give me her room number . “That’s it. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay at Picante. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

I replace the receiver, then mosey around the room.

She must have forgotten to include her phone number in the note. That’s the only explanation that makes sense. She had a meeting this morning, too. Maybe it started earlier than mine, and she didn’t want to wake me.

It has to be that.

I bring her bra to my nose and breathe it in. My cock twitches immediately at the memory of her. It’s sweet and feminine, just like her.

I’ll never smell vanilla again and not get a hard-on.

The suite feels too big. Too empty. Too quiet. There’s too much space for me to let my mind run wild.

Surely, she didn’t leave because she isn’t into me … right ?

“Nah,” I say, heading back into the bedroom. “Her note said it was an incredible night, and I should call her. She just forgot to leave her number.”

I’ll just find her on Social.

I grab my phone and pull up the app. Then I type in Kelly Kapowski .

Four accounts pull up with the same chick that is definitely not my Kelly.

“The fuck?”

I open a browser and search for her there.

“Why is this only pulling up a television show?” I open one article and discover that Kelly Kapowski is the name of a character from a teenage sitcom. “Her mom must’ve been a fan. People are so weird.”

The knot in my stomach grows tighter by the minute. I can’t shake it off. I’m sure it’s just a case of confusion, disappointment, and blue balls. Still, I need someone to tell me that I’m overreacting.

I grab my phone and call Carys.

“Why are you calling me so early on a Saturday morning?” Carys asks, yawning.

“Hello to you, too.”

“Is anyone dying?” Gannon asks from the background.

“No,” I say. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Then why the hell are you calling us this early?” Gannon asks.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not calling you. I’m calling Carys.”

“You’re going to learn boundaries one way or the other,” my brother says.

“Yeah. Later,” I say. “Carys, I’m having a slight emergency, and I need your help.”

“For the love of God, Tate …” Gannon mutters, sighing heavily for my benefit, I’m sure.

The line gets fuzzy for a moment before Carys’s voice rings through the line.

“What’s your emergency?” she asks.

“He probably found out Kelly isn’t real,” Gannon says.

“She is real, asshole. Trust me. I fucked her for six or seven hours last night.”

Carys sighs. “So … emergency?” Carys asks impatiently.

“She might be real, but she was gone this morning,” I say, the words a little wobbly as they come out.

“What do you mean she was gone this morning?” Carys asks.

I pace the room. “I don’t know. She was gone. I went to sleep with her on top of me, and I woke up alone. She took her clothes and the pie and left.”

“Pie?” Carys asks.

“Tate, are you drunk?” Gannon asks.

“No, I’m not drunk, asshole. God, I hate you sometimes.”

“We have something in common after all.” Gannon snorts.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this. Actually, I’m not.

I’m overjoyed that I get to be the one who tells you this—Kelly isn’t real.

At worst, you have a drug problem we don’t know about, and you imagined all of this. At best, she gave you a fake name.”

I gasp. “Kelly would never do that.”

“You sure?”

Hell, yes, I’m sure … aren’t I?

My gut tenses even harder. It almost feels like I’ve taken a punch from Ripley because the wind has been knocked out of me. How dare he suggest something so asinine?

“We had a connection,” I say, talking over Gannon’s chuckles. “I was charming. I took my clothes off. I entertained her with stories and oysters, and I made her come?—”

“Stop!” Carys groans. “We get the picture.”

“I’m starting to worry she got sick or something,” I say.

“Or maybe she just played you,” Gannon says with entirely too much glee.

I narrow my eyes. “She didn’t play me. She was totally into me.” I start pacing again. “But let’s play devil’s advocate for a minute and say there was a chance she wasn’t into me. How would you even substantiate that idea? I’m Tate fucking Brewer. Women love me.”

“All of them but her,” Gannon says.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t. I’ve never had a woman walk out on me— ouch ! I’m kidding, Carys. I’m kidding.”

“No, you’re not,” she says. “No one in their right mind would walk out on you. I just don’t want to think about you with other women.”

“There were no women before you. You’re the only one who mattered.”

“Come on,” I groan. “Let’s focus on me here.”

The sound of them kissing crackles through the phone.

“I need a new best friend,” I say.

“Yes, you do,” Gannon says, although the sound is broken up by what I’m assuming is Carys’s lips.

“I really should’ve fucked your stepmommy,” I tell Carys. “Then you could’ve known what it’s like to have someone from your family reject you.”

Carys laughs. “Aurora isn’t my stepmommy anymore, remember? So if you had hooked up with her, she wouldn’t have been my family. Besides, I like Aurora. She wouldn’t reject me.”

“Like Kelly rejected you.” Gannon chuckles again.

“I hate you,” I say. “Both of you. All I needed was for you to tell me that there must’ve been an emergency, and that Kelly will call me later.”

“We aren’t lying to you,” Gannon says.

This bastard.

“Tate, I’m sure she’ll get ahold of you,” Carys says. “Have you ever known a woman not to call?”

I grin. “No.”

“And have you ever wanted a woman you couldn’t get?” she asks.

My grin turns smug, and I stand taller. “Absolutely not.”

“So she probably had work this morning or something and had to run. She clearly knows what room you’re in, and I’m sure she’ll be knocking by dinnertime.”

“See? That’s all I needed.” I move to the bathroom and flip on the shower. “Was it that hard?”

“Oh, it’s very hard right now,” Carys says, whimpering.

I roll my eyes again. “Bye.”

Carys yelps and giggles as the call is disconnected on her end.

I don’t have time to put my phone down before it starts pinging. I glance down to see my text app going off repeatedly.

Ripley: Well, well, well.

Bianca: Be nice, Ripley.

Ripley: I am being nice.

Jason: I’d like to think I’m too mature for this, but I’m up with my coffee in hand.

Renn: Gannon works fast.

That fucker.

I know this is about me without asking. I’m partially impressed that Gannon has lowered himself enough to gossip. Maybe he’s human, after all. But I’m mostly irritated in their amusement at my predicament.

Ripley: Gannon works fast, but Kelly runs faster.

Renn:

Jason: Yikes.

Bianca: Oh, lord.

Me: What did I ever do to you?

Ripley: I think Kelly is asking herself the same question this morning—what did Tate do to me?

I reach into the shower and turn the water off.

Me: She had to work this morning. It’s no big deal.

Bianca: I believe you.

Jason: I don’t.

Me: You know what *I* don’t believe? I don’t believe I had to fly commercial to Columbus. That’s what I don’t believe.

Renn: But if you’d have flown Brewer Air, you wouldn’t have met your fake girlfriend.

Me: SHE IS NOT FAKE.

Ripley: Her name was.

Jason: Have you thought about looking her up online?

Ripley:

I stare at the phone. Yes, motherfucker, I did. And it wasn’t helpful.

Me: You guys are wrong. You don’t know her like I do. We shared something special. We had a connection.

Ripley: Suuuuuuure.

Me: Your jealousy is getting ugly, Rip.

Ripley: Please.

Me: I’m not dog sitting Pancake and Waffles anymore.

Ripley: Yes, you will.

I will. He’s right. I love those damn dogs. But I’m not telling him that.

I glance at the clock.

Me: I don’t have time for this. I have to get ready for work because some of us don’t get to stay home all weekend and enjoy ourselves.

Gannon: I’m quite enjoying myself right now.

I’m going to kill him.

I close out of the app and don’t look at it again.

Instead, I jump into the shower and try to figure out how to get ahold of Kelly Kapowski.