He returns to his table and Tara arrives back with my coffee, setting it down in front of me.
Chen says something to him. Mateo nods. Normal. Everything normal.
But beneath the table, my hands are shaking.
I press them flat against my thighs and breathe.
No one knows, I tell myself.No one saw. No one can prove anything.
I am a professional.
I am a professional.
I am a professional who spent last night letting her athlete fuck her against a hotel headboard, and now I have to sit through the bus ride home.
I take a long sip of coffee.
MATEO
Breakfast is loud and carb-heavy and exactly what I need. I eat without talking much, which nobody questions because I’m always like that before travel. Elida is sitting across the dining room with Tara and Calloway, hair up, coffee in hand, like someone who slept perfectly well.
We’re back upstairs grabbing bags when Mercer catches me.
“So,” he says.
“Mercer.” I grab my bag and head out into the corridor.
“Where were you last night?”
“Bed.”
“Funny,” he says, falling into step beside me. “Because I got up for water around two and your bed was empty.”
“Light sleeper,” I say. “Went for a walk.”
“A walk.”
“Fresh air.”
“In Ridgewood. At two in the morning.”
“It’s a nice town.”
Mercer rolls his eyes. “I also may have noticed that you got a text right before you left.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Met someone at the bar?”
“Mercer.”
“What? I’m just saying. Why are you being weird about it?”
“Can you leave it?”
He considers this for a moment.
“I mean, obviously I could have hooked up too. I had loads of offers in the bar. I was tired.”
