Page 6

I’m of half a mind to not step out of the bathroom.

While my little red dress is all sex and holy titties, the pajamas I packed are the exact opposite.

The sweatpants are a size too big, rolled at the top to keep them slung on my hips, and the ratty graphic t-shirt from my first concert is sleep-worthy-threadbare.

The well-worn fabric is outrageously soft, but a few holes spatter the shoulder and bottom, making it look more grunge than loved.

I have gone from wealthy sex kitten to antisocial hermit girl in under three minutes.

In all fairness, I wasn’t intending on hosting anyone tonight.

The plan had been for ratty sweats, a glass of wine, and a chick-flick marathon.

Not being trapped in my room with a hot man I barely know while his drunken celebrity ex caterwauls outside my door in a “fuck you, he’s mine” sit-in protest.

Now, it’s suffer through an entire evening in my Spanx and a bra that’s digging into my ribs to keep up the sexy veneer, or tell my ego to kick rocks and wear what feels good.

Seeing as our deal of forgetting each other still stands, impressing Dalton shouldn’t matter.

Once Ellie is extracted, we will walk away and never see each other again, and it’s not like we run in the same circles.

It’s that thought that has me unsnapping my bra, dropping it on the counter, and turning the doorknob to step back into the room.

I pause to press my eye to the peephole once more.

Ellie is still slumped against Dalton’s door, one of the discarded heels clutched like she’s ready to wield it.

She’s muttering something, tapping at her phone with the other hand, but I can’t hear her over the TV that Dalton has turned up.

Security is nowhere in sight, but at least she’s not screaming obscenities anymore.

Her manager and publicist better get paid top dollar.

I check that the door latch is secure. Silly, but it feels like one more little barrier to keep her out.

I pad down the short hall to find Dalton has stripped off his suit jacket and dress shirt, draping them over the stiff, faux leather armchair in the corner.

The white undershirt he’s wearing clings to his biceps and chest in all the right ways.

I’m lucky his focus is on his phone and not my blatant staring.

Every muscle I felt pressed up against me in the hall looks even better than I imagined.

“Her manager says he’s coming to handle this, but it could be a few hours before he can get here.

Hotel security’s been called off to keep this out of the press for now.

Which means we’re stuck in here for a while…

” He trails off when he finally looks up from the screen.

His eyes slide over my ensemble, that lopsided smile making a return. “Sexy.”

“Har, har,” I bite back, fighting the urge to cover my chest. It’s not like he hasn’t seen a braless woman before and although he’s probably getting an eyeful of hard nipples right now, there’s far less of my boobs on display in this t-shirt than in the dress I had on earlier.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on having anyone in my room tonight.

So sexy wasn’t really a goal. I’m not going to bust out the lingerie for a night with myself. ”

A dark look smolders in his eyes. “While the idea of a woman wearing lingerie for her own pleasure is hot as hell, I wasn’t joking, forty-eight.

Lingerie is sexy, but it’s just going to end up on the floor.

The stuffs basically fancy lace wrapping paper.

Men just want what’s underneath. A woman who is comfortable in her own skin and can rock a pair of sweats that still gets my blood pumping?

That’s way sexier than any skimpy lace job. ”

He holds my gaze, all signs of jest gone.

I flush, the heat in my core flaring. Clearing my throat, I try to disarm the sexual tension building in this suddenly too small room.

“Well then, enjoy the view while you can. Cause tomorrow morning, all this—” I give him a little twirl as I approach the bed “—never happened.”

I can feel the weight of his stare like fingers tracing over my body. “With pleasure.”

I snag a pillow and thump him in the face, earning a deep laugh. He snags it, placing it like a mini barricade between my side of the king-sized bed and his. I’m equally grateful and disappointed. A buzz emanates from his phone, eliciting a frown, then another glance at the door.

“She’s still out there,” I confirm.

“The hotel’s security wants to move her into my room, just until her manager gets here. She’s got a room on the ninth floor, but they’re worried she’ll make a bigger scene if they try to move her.”

I nod, grabbing a bag of peanuts from the pile of snacks raided from the mini bar.

“Makes sense.” I agree. If I were her manager and wanted to keep a lid on this, I would have done the same. Get her hidden as quietly as possible, with as few witnesses as possible.

“Once they get her clear of the hallway, I can slip out. They said all the rooms are booked, but I can head down to the bar until Larry arrives. That way, you get your room back and can be rid of me. Bargain still intact.” The smile on his face hits all the wrong angles.

Despite hardly knowing the man, I can read the pain in his eyes that won’t quite meet mine.

“Ellie do this a lot?” I ask.

His forehead puckers. Clearly, this is not the question he expected. “Shows up at places where I am and causes a scene?”

I nod.

“Lately, yeah.” He leans back, head thumping against the headboard as he rakes a hand through his hair.

Based on its tousled state, he’s been doing that the entire time I was in the bathroom changing.

“We dated for a few months, met at this gala. She came with some tech guru, but went home with me. I felt so damn lucky. Ellie Edwards wanted me . It was fucking surreal. There were so many red flags, but for the first month I was way too busy thinking with my dick to care.”

“Red flags?” I ask, fiddling with the peanut wrapper. I can feel the dam Dalton has held together crumbling, like he’s been waiting to tell someone everything she put him through.

“After one date, I came home from practice to find her half-naked, handcuffed to my bed. She’d bribed the doorman to let her in. Then she started showing up everywhere—games, practices—threatened my youngest sister, Hannah, when she met me after practice one day for lunch.

“That was the last straw. No one fucks with my family. I’d known her like two months.

Broke it off officially that night.” Dalton stares at the TV, not seeing a thing on the screen.

“A fire broke out in my kitchen the next afternoon while I was at practice. Damn near burned the building down. Firefighters said it looked like arson. Of course, all the cameras in our building just happen to be out, so there’s no proof.

Convenient, right? But the text saying, ‘ I’ll burn you to the ground.

No one breaks up with me fucker’ was a pretty good clue. ”

I strangle the peanuts, trying to keep the shock off my face.

“You didn’t press charges?” I repress the urge to reach across the pillow barricade and touch him.

“Tried, but it’s complicated. I’m under a gag order—all part of a stupid legal agreement.

Shouldn’t even be saying anything to you.

” Dalton snorts, and the way the corners of his mouth pull down tears at my heart.

“I was going to get a restraining order, but her manager called mine, promised he had her under control. Said I’d ruin her career if I got it.

The repercussion would affect a shit ton of people who work with and for her.

I just wanted her out of my life. I didn’t want to be responsible for people losing their jobs.

So, I agreed. The deal was I keep quiet, and she’d get help and stay away. What a load of shit.”

“She wasn’t on tonight’s approved guest list.” I reviewed the list myself, preparing the name plates and thank you emails. I would have recalled a big name like Ellie Edwards.

“Bet she used an alias, just like you did. I almost walked off stage when I realized who was bidding on me. The disguise was good, but not good enough. I’ve been avoiding that face for months.

There’s no way I’d miss it, even in a crowd.

” Dalton rolls his head to the side, meeting my eyes again.

“You have no idea how relieved I was when you outbid her.”

“Technically, I wasn’t bidding.” I correct.

“Oh, I know. And technically, I didn’t give a shit. As long as she lost.”

There’s another round of well-timed swears and what sounds like a high heel being smacked against a door. We both cringe. The guilt I had for putting us in this situation vaporizes as the reality of why Dalton paid my winning bid takes root.

“So that’s why you were so quick to pay for my bid.”

“Can you blame me?” His eyes search mine, desperate for acceptance.

“I would have done the same thing in your shoes to avoid her. And given the choice, knowing what I know now, I’d bid on you all over again. On purpose this time.” I reassure him.

His phone dings again and I wait while he reads the message. “Security is on their way up. Sorry about dragging you into this, Jenna. This is such a fucked up situation. Not how I thought the night was going to go.”

“Thought you’d be balls deep in some rich cougar with a fat check on its way to your charity?”

He barks out a surprised laugh. “Yeah, I guess, something like that. I got the fat check part right, at least.” He perches on the end of the bed. “Though drinks with you was… fun. It’s been a while since I’ve just hung out with a woman who wasn’t trying to slip her panties into my pocket.”

It’s my turn to let out a startled laugh. “That really happens?”