Ryan DeMarco was still in love. It would take more than this to stop him from loving Elissa. It was entirely possible he’d never stop loving her.
Fuck. And he’d let her order a rideshare and drive away. What had he been thinking?
He searched his saddlebags and found his phone, swearing under his breath as the damn face recognition didn’t recognize his face. As soon as he unlocked it, he called. Straight to voicemail.
Fine.
Ryan surged to his feet, found his discarded clothes, and dressed hurriedly. Then he tried again.
He hung up before the voicemail message finished. He had the smallest modicum of pride left. He would not beg. She’d made her choice, and he would let her go. For now. What else could he do? He didn’t even know which hospital.
Run after her. Throw yourself at her feet. His subconscious was not getting the message. It would. Given enough time, he’d move on.
Don’t wanna.
What he wanted to do right now was get the fuck out of here. Elissa wasn’t coming back, and he couldn’t stand being surrounded by her scent and the memories of the sounds she’d made as she broke apart around him. If he left now, he could shower at home and still make it to work today. Play off yesterday as food poisoning. An emergency at his apartment. Temporary insanity.
Did he care enough to?
Yeah, if not for his father’s good opinion, at least to keep someone else from having to do his job as well as their own. Plus, what else was he going to do? Sit in his dark apartment and wonder what he did wrong? Call her over and over, when she’d made her feelings clear?
That wasn’t his style.
It could be. She might be worth it.
Leaving a tip for housekeeping, Ryan texted his cousin that he had to leave early. He placed the saddlebags on his motorcycle and started his baby. Shit, Baby needed gas.
Ryan sped through the desert, down nearly empty highways, a man with a death wish. He stopped for gas and was off again, weaving through the light traffic.
He made it to his apartment before even the palest band of light appeared on the eastern horizon. He popped into the kitchen and flicked on the coffeepot before heading to the shower. Ryan spent fifteen minutes trying to scrub away Elissa’s scent. It didn’t fucking work. Somehow, the smell of her, the texture of her, the taste of her, had become indelibly inscribed onto his brain.
Ryan downed two cups of coffee, soaking up the caffeine with some toast. It was going to be a helluva day. He wove through Tucson rush hour, arriving exactly on time by some miracle.
Elissa’s car was still in the parking lot.
Worry shot through him before he could quash it. Wasn’t his problem. Couldn’t be his problem. She’d left him.
He hurried to the front door, pulling the keys from his pocket.
“Where are you going?”
Ryan’s heart raced and he nearly dropped his keys at the unexpected voice. Alex leaned against the door, wearing a suit with his arms crossed. If it were anyone else, he would call the expression on his brother’s face a glower. But this was Alex’s resting bitch face. As skilled a businessperson as he was, as personable as he could be, it was a mask. They might not be close, but Ryan knew how much it cost Alex to always wear the happy-go-lucky businessman face.
“Work?”
“And you still think you work here after the shit you pulled yesterday?”
Dude had a point.
“What do you say, boss? Do I still have a job after the shit I pulled?”
Wait, was that a smile on his brother’s face? No, he must be imagining things. There is no way Alex would be smiling right now. Not when he got to deliver the riot act to his little brother.
“Well, since you got a bad case of food poisoning from your lunch and had to go home to get it out of your system, no one is expecting you at the office today. Which you would have found out if you’d bothered to check your voicemail.”
Ryan pulled out his phone. Yep, there was a message from Alex. He read the first few lines of the transcription.
Sorry you’re indisposed. Talked to Dad and we agree you should take tomorrow off…
