My stomach bottoms out. “Nine months. Where am I going?” I whisper.
“Are you alone?” I think about saying yes, but I know better than to discuss this type of thing around anyone, let alone someone I have known for less than twenty-four hours.
“Can you give me five minutes?” I ask.
“Yes, sir, all deployment details have been sent to the secure email address. Find somewhere you can talk, tell no one and I will call you back in five minutes.”
The call ends and I cover my mouth with my palm. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This couldn’t be worse timing.
I quickly get dressed in last night's clothes, and I give Noelle one last glance, thinking about disturbing her but instead, decide that bringing her a slice of her favorite cake and a coffee will be a better wake up call. My way of telling her that I want to see her again, but I have to leave and I can’t tell her why.
Yeah, that won’t confuse the fuck out of her.
I take my overnight bag, which holds my laptop in, pocket my phone and exit the hotel room as quietly as I can.
Chapter Eleven
Kennedy Noelle
The click of a door stirs me from my slumber. I stretch, and every muscle in my body feels heavy and aches. I sit up and glance around the room.
Where the hell am I? My eyes widen as realization dawns.
The sequence of yesterday’s events flash through my mind like an old fashion movie, and I fall back onto the mattress, covering my face with my hands in shame.
Oh my god. I can’t believe I did that. I had sex with a stranger. Hot, dirty, unforgettable sex. I’m pretty sure I should book in for a mobile IV because I must be severely dehydrated. Four times, four times I came. Who knew that was possible?
I look over to my left expecting to see Beckett, but nothing but crumpled sheets meets my eyes.
“Beckett?” I call out, expecting him to be in the bathroom, but when I am met with silence, anxiety blooms in my chest.
Did he leave? I get out of bed and slip on my dress, gathering my underwear, purse and heels in hand and search the room. It’sonly now I can appreciate how large this place is—more like a suite really.
I check the closet, the drawers, and the bathroom. Nothing. No Beckett, no bags, no clothes, no evidence of him ever being here.
Now, I don’t know the etiquette of a one night stand, but I am pretty damn sure this isn’t it. He left. Just upped and left, left me alone inhishotel room. Used me and tossed me aside like I meant nothing. I thought we shared a connection; one that is often rare to have with someone you’ve only known for a short period of time. He didn’t seem like the type, but then again, I don’t seem to have the best track record when it comes to men.
Shame and embarrassment wash over me. The things I said, the things I let him do to me. I should have known it was too good to be true. I really thought he was a good guy. I really believed he liked me. Not being able to bear a minute more in this room and the reminders of my mistake, I run.
I need to get out of here. I’ll take a cab all the way to The Hamptons if I have to. I slip on my heels, throw on my coat and grab my suitcase from my room and head for the elevator, smelling of regret and shame. What a fool I was to fall into bed with the first man who paid me attention after I was dumped?
How stupid was I to think he would be here when I woke up? We both agreed on one night, nothing more. I said those very words. I knew it couldn’t go anywhere. So why does this rejection hurts more than the end of my long term relationship?
Maybe it’s because I knew me and Carson were over long before we made it official. Maybe it’s because Beckett made me feel a way no one ever has, maybe it's because I was naïve enough to believe that I was worth wanting and keeping.
Chapter Twelve
Beckett
Nine months. I could be gone for nine months. Had I got this call before I met Noelle, I’d be sprinting to the airport to get the hell out of here and away from my car crash of a life, but now, having been with her she’s changed everything. I know that’s crazy; I’ve known her a day, but something feels different. It’s a connection you can’t explain with words. It’s just a feeling, and it’s going to hurt like fuck to tell her I have to go. But I want to explain to her as much as I am able, give her my real name and my number, a promise of another night when I return, if that’s what she wants.
I managed to set up in the hotel bar with my laptop, confirm my travel arrangements, and read my brief. The kitchen staff were kind enough to cut a slice of mahogany cake and put a candle in it for Noelle.
Balancing two take-out coffee cups on top of each other, a plate of cake and my overnight bag slung over my shoulder, I make my way back up to my hotel room.
I tap the door with my foot, waiting for Noelle to open it. I wait and wait. I tap again, and nothing. I set down the coffee and use my key card. Maybe she’s still asleep. We did go a few rounds last night; she must be exhausted.
Something feels off the minute I enter. The faint smell of her floral perfume lingers in the air, but there are no clothes on the floor, and the bed is empty, and the knot tightens in my stomach.
