Page 5

Micah

A fter going back to my own dressing room and meeting a bunch of Wildcats fans who work for the studio, I finally get out of the building.

I pull my phone out, putting in the number that Raeann’s friend read off to me.

The same number I’d been repeating in my head since I reluctantly left her dumbstruck in her dressing room.

It may as well be tattooed on my brain now.

Then, I call Joey. He answers, and I launch right in.

“Hey, I need you to find out where Raeann is staying, then I need you to upgrade her to the penthouse and put it on my credit card. If there’s someone else staying in the penthouse, offer them money to move and a free stay on me in a better hotel.

Then I want you to do some research on anxiety and send it to me. ”

Joey takes notes—at least, I think he does. He must have some way of remembering what I tell him to do because he’s been the best assistant I’ve ever had.

“Was it the humping?” he asks.

I quirk a smile as I get into the limo waiting for me at the curb.

The driver closes the door behind me. “And get a gift bag for dogs and have it sent to her room.” I’m trying to think what it is about her that attracts me to her like astronomers to space.

It’s not just her looks. There are plenty of gorgeous girls out there.

It’s a deadly combination of a few things. Like she’s my own personal drug.

“Anything for her?”

I think on that for a second. “No. I don’t want to come on too strong.”

“But the penthouse is okay?”

A smile overtakes my face. “It’s perfect. Tell me where she’s staying when you find out. Preferably within the next five minutes.”

I hang up so he can get to work, then I tell the driver to hold where we are until I get Joey’s response. I keep picturing Raeann’s shocked face when she realizes she’s been upgraded, and I decide I need to see it in real life.

Just before five minutes is up, Joey texts me.

“Grand New York Hotel,” I tell the driver and hope that I haven’t missed her returning.

Aimlessly, I stare out the window on the drive there.

New York used to hold appeal. So many people.

So many things. The older I get, though, the more I realize I don’t need to know hundreds of people.

I just need a few really close ones. The ones I would bare my soul to.

The ones who keep me going when I don’t want to anymore.

I’m so in my head that I almost miss when we drive past Raeann and Athena. It’s Athena who really sticks out in her emerald-green dress.

“Can you pull over up ahead?” I ask the driver.

He does with no question. “See that woman and her dog coming down the street? I’m going to walk the rest of the way to the hotel. Can you drive them there? I’ll slip out this side. Just tell them you’re from the studio and they left without their transportation.”

“Yes, sir.”

I wait for a lull in traffic and then step out, watching while the driver approaches Raeann as I blend into the crowd.

Though she smiles at him, she ultimately shakes her head no. Kudos to the driver because he keeps trying, but she finally says something that makes him return to the limo. I follow, meeting him outside the back door.

“Sorry, sir. She said she wanted to walk.”

I pat him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll have another chance.” After thinking about it briefly, I say, “I’ll walk, too. Meet you there.”

He nods, tipping his cap slightly. “Sir.”

I stay behind them, telling myself I’m just watching out for Raeann in this big city. She’s a beautiful girl. An easy target.

Before long, she’s walking into a building, and I peer up to find the name of her hotel.

I wait a few moments, then slip inside as well, grabbing a seat in the lobby.

She heads straight for the elevators, but then a hotel employee calls out her name.

I pretend like I’m not laser focused on this conversation, but I frown when I realize I can’t hear them.

The lobby is adorned with big columns, so I walk to the closest one, casually leaning against it and checking my watch for the time.

Finally, snippets of their conversation hit me. “The penthouse?”

That’s Raeann. I’d recognize her sweet twang anywhere.

“Yes, your things are already being moved there, and here’s your new key.”

“But how?”

“I’m honestly not sure. I was just told to look out for you and give you your new key.”

“Are you sure? Raeann Gorman?”

“Raeann Gorman,” the employee confirms.

“I was in 222.”

“Yes, ma’am, 222 to the penthouse. That’s correct.”

“Oh.” Her pinched face softens when she shrugs. “That sounds like some good luck, then.”

“Very good luck. You’ll love it. You have your own personal bellhop, and if you put in a room service order, yours is given priority.”

“I’ll feel like a princess.”

The young employee smiles.

Raeann gestures toward the elevators. “So I just…”

“Scan this card in the elevator and hit PH. The doors open up right into your suite.”

“Wow. Okay.”

I indulge myself in a few more moments of watching Raeann as she waits for the elevator. When it stops, the smile on her face when she turns toward the room numbers to swipe her card is priceless.

The urge to follow her up there is too much, so I walk back out to the limo and tell the driver to take me to my hotel.

As soon as I get into my own penthouse, my phone buzzes. I stare down at a text from Joey informing me that the dog gift basket was delivered and that Raeann should be in the penthouse already.

I’m certainly not going to tell him I already knew that, so I text back a thank you and then move through the spacious room, complete with a wall full of windows overlooking the New York skyline, to the master bedroom.

I throw myself onto the bed at the same time my cell phone buzzes again.

This time, it’s an email from Joey. In the body is a bunch of links to articles related to anxiety, but it’s the bottom one that interests me the most. Joey has it bolded. You should read this one.

The article links to a small, local paper in Tennessee from two years ago.

“Woman Rides Out Tornado, Is Saved By Stray Dog”

I sit up at the picture on the front page: Raeann, mud-spattered with dirt-caked, stringy hair, kneeling next to what can only be described as wreckage.

Complete desolation. Her hand is covering her mouth, and then there’s Athena.

Equally as dirty with matted fur, glued right to her side, just like I’d witnessed today.

I read through the article quickly, then read through it two more times to let it sink in.

Raeann is a survivor, and Athena is a goddamn hero.

Athena lifted debris with her mouth, dug with her paws, and made such a ruckus that it brought the attention of the emergency crew who finally pulled an unconscious Raeann out of the rubble of her family’s mobile home. Her father was later found dead.

Athena’s been by her side ever since. The article doesn’t tell me that, I just know it. The way she jumped between us when she sensed Raeann was agitated. She’s an angel in dog form.

Next, I read up on anxiety. I’ve had a few bouts myself during intense moments of my life, but I don’t deal with it daily. I wonder if Athena was ever fully trained to be an emotional support dog, or if it’s just the connection she has with Raeann. Either way, they’re both impressive.

An hour later, I’m chewing my already raw lips while staring at Raeann’s number in my phone. My texts are open, and I’ve been wondering whether or not I should say anything. Or call her. By now, she’s probably put two and two together if Joey put my name on the card for the dog gift basket.

I don’t want to freak her out if I call her, so I decide on a text. That way she can return it in her own time. No panic-inducing, having-to-think-on-the-spot moments.

Me: Raeann, it’s Micah. I’d like to offer up a private jet to fly you and Athena back to Tennessee.

The thought of Athena in the cargo hold of a big passenger jet makes me squirm, and I highly doubt Raeann is okay with it either. It must’ve been traumatic for the both of them. This way, they can fly in comfort back home.

Raeann: That sounds…extravagant, and I’m not comfortable with that. We only just met you.

Me: I won’t even fly with you. I have first-class seats on American tomorrow.

She doesn’t answer for a few more minutes. I have my hopes up that she’s actually going to accept, but when I get her response, those dreams are crushed.

Raeann: I think we’ll be fine in my car. Thanks for the offer, though.

Raeann: And the hotel room. Athena is currently sprawled out on this massive bed. I bet she won’t even want to leave tomorrow.

Relief hits when I read that she’s driving instead of flying, but then another host of worries bubble up. Car accidents are actually far more common than plane accidents. What if something happens?

On the other hand, I can’t go around making demands when Raeann barely knows me. Apparently. It’s not her style, and although I’m disappointed, I can respect that. I don’t think many women would’ve turned down a private jet. Hell, I wouldn’t turn down a private jet.

Me: And the treats?

Raeann: She says you’re welcome.

Me: For?

Raeann: Your note said “Thanks for the hump.”

My eyes bulge out of my head, and I immediately call Joey. When he answers, I launch into a tirade.

“You wrote thanks for the hump?”

“Yes, and you should take credit for that one. It’s good.”

“ Thanks for the hump ?” I repeat, not even bothering to camouflage my disbelief. “It sounds dirty and disturbed.”

“You told me to pull everything I can on her, had me research anxiety—which I’m guessing she has—and put her up in the penthouse along with a doggie gift basket. If she doesn’t already think you’re disturbed, that’s on her.”

My jaw drops, but then I school my face. “Why? Too much?”

“Are you a stalker or the number one running back in the league? You never try this hard to get girls. I’ve seen your game. It’s bad. Not that I can blame you. You don’t usually have to try.”

“You have a lot of thoughts about this.”

“You asked my opinion.”

“This must be why I never bother to ask.”

“That’s on you. Also, your mom and dad called. They want to schedule a dinner.”

“They called you ?”

“You asked them to do that last time.” When I don’t say anything, he says, “If you’re wondering if that makes you a bad son, I would say yes.”

“Are you trying to piss me off today?”

“A little. I wish I was in a penthouse in New York. Instead, I’m at my home office, and my cat threw up a hairball ten seconds ago that looked like it had something moving in it, my neighbors are arguing again, and I’m getting arthritis by doing all your stalker research just so a guy who makes way more money than me can save his hands to win a giant trophy that we only place importance on but is actually meaningless. ”

I take my phone away from my ear to make sure I’m on the phone with Joey. Sure enough, it says I am. His voice sounds like my assistant’s, but I’m not sure where this extra spice is coming from.

“Do you feel okay? Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.”

I only hear “thank you” before he hangs up.

I can’t help but laugh when I pull the phone away and realize that he actually did hang up on me. Joey’s always a little extra, but he’s on fire today. I text my accountant and ask him to give Joey a fifteen percent raise.

Then I pull Raeann’s text thread back up.

Me: I hear it’s only polite to say thank you after something like that. I wouldn’t want her to think it didn’t mean anything to me.

Raeann: HAHAHA. I’m sure she’ll thoroughly enjoy the treats you sent after she wakes up from her comfort-induced coma.

Me: It was nice to meet you both today.

Again, her response doesn’t come in for a little while, but I stare at my phone until it does. When it buzzes in my hands, my stomach clenches.

Raeann: It was nice to meet you, too, Micah Freeman.

Raeann: (It felt a little surreal typing that out.)

I want to tell her to drop the formality because she certainly won’t be screaming my entire name when I’m buried deep inside her one day?—

Shit . I shouldn’t have let my mind go there.

Now I’m hard and only getting harder. Willpower has never been my strong suit.

I reach down to adjust my dick, but I don’t stop there.

With images of Raeann on my mind, her dress lifted to her hips and bent over the vanity in her dressing room, I stroke my cock.

Picturing her cute, upturned mouth, hearing my name with that sexy accent and the sounds that could drop from her lips, my orgasm doesn’t take long.

A guttural groan escapes my throat at the same time I shudder out a pleasureful breath, my cock still jerking in my hand.

Fuck me . It was satisfying and unsatisfying at the same time. The real thing would be even better. Ten times better. A hundred times better.

I definitely won’t be able to stop thinking about that now.