“I’m sure it is. Let’s go see.”
Together, we followed the agent from room to room. Everything looked perfect.
“I’ll take it,” I stated when he’d finished, and the shock on his face told me this wasn’t how it normally worked.
“Oh, uh, sure. What offer would you like to put in?”
“Whatever you think will get me in here as soon as possible.”
“So you don’t want to see the other one I found? You might like it better,” Fallon said, clearly surprised at my snap decision.
I grinned. “I like this one. That’s good enough. Great job, Fallon.”
Pink suffused his face. “Thanks. I—uh, so I guess I’d better cancel the showing for the other condo.”
“Yeah. And then we have to go furniture shopping.”
“I-I can do that for you. I’m sure you have more important things to take care of. Just tell me what you like.”
“I’m sure you can, but I’m very particular about the bed I sleep in. I usually get them custom made. At my height, I have a hard time finding a comfortable mattress.”
“You didn’t need to see the apartment, but you have to try out your mattress?”
I snickered. “That’s the one piece of furniture that gets the most action.”
Now fire-engine red, Fallon ducked his head and mumbled something about needing to make a call. He practically ran to the other side of the room.
“Mr. Sloane, I think this would be a fair offer.” The agent droned on about paperwork, and I nodded along, but I couldn’t get the picture of Fallon in my bed and under me out of my mind.
Chapter Five
Fallon
Early morning workouts were never my thing. Actually, workouts in general weren’t, but I did find they cleared my head when I could think of nothing else but the blood pumping through my veins and the sweat slicking my skin. Plus, sitting all day meant I didn’t get much physical activity, so here I was, at five thirty, at SportsLab NYC, the number-one gym for athletes in the city, pumping iron.
With my set finished, I wiped my face and arms and got on the treadmill. Earbuds in, I started running, which gave me a chance to think about what had happened at Intensity.
I’d wrestled with myself over whether to go or not, but who was I kidding? I had to know if he’d show up. I’d put in my colored contacts and had even pulled out a high-end wig Dev had gotten me for a Brooklyn Kings costume party he’d invited me to. I’d wanted there to be no chance of Patrick recognizing me.
I’d known it was Patrick from the suit he’d worn—the same custom-tailored one he’d left the hotel suite in for his earlier meetings. Plus, he had a starburst of freckles on the right side of his neck I’d memorized from our time together. Funny how I remembered such a small detail from so many years ago.
And when he’d touched me…God, I’d fucking burned for him. In the years since we’d been together, no one had caused my bones to melt like this man.
He’d wanted to kiss me, and I’d imagined the silky sweep of his tongue parting my lips. The soft yet demanding pressure of his mouth on mine. My whole body had become one pulsing core of hungry need, and that was why I’d run. I’d thought I was over him, but if I’d stayed, I would’ve ended up under Patrick Sloane.
My feet pounded the treadmill, the miles piling up. If I could run him out of my system, I would, and I cursed my weakness. This had been my fear—that working so closely with Trick would have me thinking of nothing but sex. Sex with him.
Someone got on the treadmill next to me, and my annoyance spiked. By now it was six in the morning, and while the gym was filling up, there were plenty of empty machines they could’ve picked. I turned my head to glare at the person and met Trick’s smirk.
“Surprise.”
Breathing heavily, I slowed my steps to a walk and grabbed my towel to wipe my face. “What’re you doing here?” I questioned when I stopped panting.
He glanced around the room. “I think I’m exercising.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha-ha. Yeah. I didn’t know you were a member here.”
“I asked Dev about a gym and got my agent to arrange it. I intend to be on the field this Sunday.” His jaw hardened.
