by Hill, Sierra
****
Mitch left after having eaten breakfast and showering, needing to attend one final meeting in Miami before they left for the airport that afternoon. Rylie busied herself with the chore of cleaning the breakfast dishes, a shower and packing her bag. By noon she was on the verge of boredom as she sat out on the veranda with an iced tea and her Kindle, trying to get into one of the new James Patterson thrillers when she heard an incoming text notification. Picking up her phone from the table, she saw that the sound didn’t originate from her phone. There were no unread text messages on her phone. She heard the sound again and followed it into the open door to Mitch’s bedroom.
Scanning the room hoping to spot it, his iPhone didn’t appear. It wasn’t on the nightstand, nor the large cherry dresser along the wall. Stepping into the bathroom, she looked around the counter and in the drawers, but nothing. Turning back to the bedroom, she noticed the rumpled sheets and comforter hanging off the edge of the bed. Her body flooded with heat, as she recalled their morning together before he left. He was insatiable and drove her wild with just a word or a touch.
Lifting the comforter and blankets from the floor, she bent over to check under the bed. There it was, lying face down, a telltale sign of their utter recklessness and abandon the night before when she had her way with him.
Scooping the phone up, she glanced at the black screen as she turned it over in her hand. Pulling herself to a standing position, she held the phone in her palm, which grew clammy and weighty with an uncontrollable curiosity to see what the text said.
She shook her head in defiance of her thoughts. She would not snoop to read his text. That was an invasion of his privacy.
But what if he needed to know something urgently and she was the only one who could respond? That made sense in her head, even though she had no other means of getting in touch with him if the message was urgent.
Conflicted over the conundrum, she had made the decision to just let it go and not check the message. She was about to set it on the bureau when another text came through, lighting up the screen with all the unread messages.
Message One:Hey Shithead. You haven’t called back on the contracts. Need ASAP. Thx. Jax.
Hmm…seemed like an urgent business matter. But again, she had no way of reaching Mitch and didn’t even know when he’d be back. She thought he’d mumbled something about one or two o’clock as he walked out the door earlier, but she’d been lost in his kisses to pay much attention. Hopefully this could wait until then.
Her eyes moved next to the message just below the first. Reading it once through, her brow furrowed, as anger rose like bile up her throat.
Message Two: Hey M – it’s Elle. Can’t wait to see you! Looking forward to you in a tux. It’s been far too long. XOXO
WTF?
Who the hell was Elle and why was she going to see him in a tux?
This was exactly what she knew would happen. How stupid could she be? To expect that Mitch didn’t have anyone else in his life or after one three-day affair with her he’d just drop everyone else he was seeing or sleeping with to be with her? Idiot!
Of course he was seeing other women. Why wouldn’t he? He was an extremely handsome, sexy, eligible bachelor with money and influence. He ran in social circles she only knew from tabloid magazines. He hobnobbed with celebrities. She meant nothing to him but an easy fuck. And she now hated herself for dropping her guard and jumping in with both feet. Now she was falling and would end up at the bottom of the ravine she’d never wanted to be in and didn’t have the first clue how to climb the fuck out.
Turning on her heels, she walked out of the room and started to gather her belongings. She could play this out in one of two ways. Stay there until Mitch returned, head back to Boston and part ways, no harm, no foul. Or, she could check for an earlier flight, call a cab and leave Miami as fast as she could. Good riddance.
She decided on the latter.
This time, however, she didn’t fail to forget common courtesy, which Mitch was obviously a stickler on, and left him a note on the table, right next to his forgotten phone.
CHAPTER twenty-two
Mitch was practically humming as he got into the car to head back to the beach house. All his meetings successfully completed and all his Miami business all but wrapped up, save a faxed contract to a waiting Jackson – he was nearly giddy as he thought about getting back to Rylie. Apparently the scientific studies on sex and the after effects were correct, he mused. It really did boost physical energy and emotional vitality, because he was buzzing with energy all morning, even with the pitiful amount of sleep from the previous night.
He hated leaving her earlier this morning as she lay in his arms, her body radiating a warm post-coital glow. She’d fallen asleep with her head across his chest, breathing softly and smelling of the lemon and sage body wash he’d used on her in the shower.
The sheer will it took for him to get out of bed and leave her was nothing short of superhero strength – of which he didn’t think he possessed. As soon as he left for his meetings, the only thing he could think about was speeding up time and slipping back into bed with her the minute he returned. He’d been so completely lost by the morning’s pleasures, that he’d forgotten his phone and hadn’t realized it until he was halfway to his meeting location.
What was it about Rylie that had him so head over heels for her? She was gorgeous, no doubt. She wasn’t like other women he had dated, who were superficial and trivial in their looks or style. Rylie was a natural beauty, unfettered by materialistic needs – comfortable in her own skin. She was street smart, and tough – the result of growing up in a two-male household. Yet she was naïve and uncertain in her sexuality, but honest in her approach to it. She gave as much as she took and was eager to learn and explore. She didn’t play games or say one thing but mean the other. How refreshing.
He couldn’t get enough of her and wanted to learn more about who she was and what she wanted in life. Had he ever considered that with others he’d slept with? Was there ever any interest in anything other than sex with them?
Mitch chewed on that question as he pulled up into the driveway. He laughed at himself to think that in less than a month, Rylie had swallowed him whole and she didn’t even know it. She had no idea how completely absorbed he was in her – how much he wanted her and how easily she could chew him up and spit him out, leaving him with a gaping wound.
Shaking off the thought, Mitch walked in the front door, placing his bag on the floor and keys on the hall table.
“Hey, IQ…I’m home,” he called out to a silent room, a small echo reverberating down the hallway. “I need to make up for my absence…” He’d had fantasies all morning and was already hard thinking about getting her where he wanted her.
Hearing no response, he walked back into the guestroom and opened the door. The bed was neatly made and there was no visible sign to indicate she was ever even there. Moving across the hallway to his room, he stepped in, walking out to the patio and calling for her again.
Empty.
Maybe she was down in the workout room. Heading out the bedroom door, he passed the kitchen where the sight of his phone on the table caught his attention.
Good. Thank God he hadn’t lost it somewhere. Picking up the phone to check for any messages, he noticed a yellow sticky note folded neatly next to it.
Curious, he unfolded it, reading the note twice before letting out a loud What the fuck?
Mitch,
Thanks for the great time. I had fun. I had to head back to Boston sooner than expected. I’ll call you.
Ry
Mitch stood there stunned – floored by what he’d just read. What the hell is this all about? What was she thinking just leaving a note and taking off on her own back to Boston? What the hell would possess her to do something like that?
He picked up his phone, ready to call her and saw the number of messages and texts he had received since that morning. He quickly flipped through them,
checking for any that came from Rylie. Her contact information was already programmed into his phone, but nothing popped up with her number. Just a few from Jax and one from Elle. He’d have to deal with them later.
Feeling frustrated, confused by her abrupt departure and more than a bit pissed off, Mitch tried calling her phone. It went directly to voicemail. Shit. Now what? Just sit here like a fucking idiot and wait? No way. She wasn’t getting way that easy.
He quickly dialed Georgina, who was able to get him on an earlier flight, but made a fuss over the fact that he had to leave immediately in order the make it. Throwing his clothes together in his bag, he locked up the house and headed to Miami International, all the while wondering what the hell happened to send Rylie packing that fast.
With the small exception of Tully’s antics, he thought the last three days with Rylie had been amazing. They’d spent time getting to know one another, enjoying the calming beauty of the ocean and the scintillating sites that Miami had to offer. He’d tried not to push too hard, to allow her space and time to decide if she wanted him. He was crazy for the girl, but gave her complete control over whether or not to proceed. And thank God she did, otherwise he would’ve gone nuts. His insatiable desire for her was nearly killing him. The night of the football game was torture. Watching her enthralled in the action of the game was an incredible turn-on, but not as much as seeing her in the tight fitting T-shirt and her long, lean legs in the short shorts she wore. And then their afternoon on the boat was even better than any fantasy he’d ever had. He thought she had enjoyed herself just as much as he had, leading to their overwhelming sex throughout the previous night and into this morning.
And then she just disappears on him. What was up with this girl? Most women he’d been with got clingy after sleeping together, but no one he’d ever just up and walked away. Or ran away.
Mitch got to the gate a few minutes prior to them shutting the door. He had First Class again and as he sat down and snapped his seatbelt closed, he was reminded of Rylie’s head on his lap a few days earlier. Closing his eyes and drawing in a long breath, he pictured how beautiful she was sleeping peacefully across his legs, the feel of her against his body. He had to find her and ask her what was going on in her head to make her leave so abruptly.
And then it occurred to him. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way he did about their time together. Rylie hadn’t been the one to instigate things between them – it was always he who pressed the subject. Maybe she was just sick of fighting him off and gave in finally, deciding after-the-fact that it wasn’t what she wanted after all.
Whatever it was with her, he had to find out. And he’d be willing to accept her decision, even if she didn’t want anything further to do with him. It would feel like a blow to the gut, but he’d understand and would walk away gracefully. He’d dealt with loss on a massive level. He could certainly handle having Rylie tell him it was over before it even started. He wouldn’t like it though. And as usual, he’d see it as a challenge, knowing he couldn’t just walk away without a fight. He fought for what he wanted. And dammit, he wanted her.
****
Sasha was at the airport waiting when Rylie arrived in Boston. She’d called en route to the Miami airport requesting a pick-up and begged her not to be armed with questions. Sasha agreed, but her promise lasted only a mere five minutes.
Pulling onto the highway, Sasha glanced slyly over at Rylie. “Well, at least it looks like you got some sun. You have a nice glow about you.” Her sweet smile didn’t hide the real meaning in her statement.
Rylie stared out of the passenger window, lost in her thoughts. “Uh-huh.”
“Or maybe the glow is from something else,” she snickered. “Maybe it was hot, dirty sex on the beach. Maybe Mr. Miami Vice had his way with you, every which way from Sunday, and you’ve turned into a sex-starved zombie.”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured.
Sasha burst into a roaring fit of laughter, bringing Rylie’s attention back to earth, swinging her head to look over at her friend, who had obviously just gone crazy.
“What’s so funny?”
“Shitballs, girl. You have no freaking clue, do you?”
Rylie had no idea what she was talking about and the expression on her face likely told her so.
“Ry, whatever happened down in Miami has turned your brain to mush. Now, you can either bury your deepest, darkest secrets until they eat away at you like flesh-eating bacteria…”
“Oh gross.”
“Or you can unload and tell your best friend about everything that happened, all the juicy and gory details. And then I can smack you and tell you how stupid you are for leaving that gorgeous man down in Miami.”
Slamming on the brakes at a red light, Sasha’s face lit up in a broad, ‘you-know- I’m-right’ smile, her thumb drumming an impatient beat on the steering wheel.
“Nothing happened.”
Sasha’s hand flew out and smacked Rylie’s head, catching her off guard. Rylie grimaced and rubbed the side of her face that stung.
“Owww! What the hell was that for?” It was obvious her friend had really lost her mind. She was going off on her like a mad woman.
“I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit! I know you. It’s written all over your gorgeous, lying, sack-of-shit face. And I mean that with all due love and respect.” Sasha placed a hand out to grab hold of Rylie’s, interlocking her fingers with hers.
“Rylie,” she said softly this time. “Tell me what’s going on. I’ve never seen you like this. I promise not to pass judgment or criticize. Just tell me what has you so messed up that you’re fleeing the scene of the crime.”
Rylie was all at once flooded with emotion. Tears threatened to come pouring out, as they welled up in the corner of her eyes. She felt ridiculously helpless, confused and outright crazy insane. What the hell was going on with her?
“I…I don’t even know where to start. I’m so confused. This whole thing is insane. I’m messed up and don’t know what to do.”
And then it happened – the levy broke. Tears that had been damming up had now begun pouring out of her eyes. She was a blubbering idiot. Sasha’s mouth gaped open, as she pulled over to the side of the road to stop the car, obviously at a loss for words. Grabbing Kleenex out of her purse, she handed a fistful to Rylie, who bent her head in shame, as the tears streamed down her face.
Trying to form words in the midst of her sobs, Rylie began her story of all the whirlwind events that transpired in Miami. Every single, sordid detail.
Sasha nodded her head, not uttering so much as a peep, as Rylie continued to share what happened between her and Mitch over the past three days. It took nearly fifteen minutes, with a few stops and starts to blow her nose and wipe her eyes, until she’d completely finished her recap. Sasha continued to observe her friend in silence, every once in a while patting her knee or handing her another Kleenex.
Sitting in silence, with the sounds of the city and cars whizzing by their parked car, Sasha comforted her friend in her time of need. And then without notice, she slapped her upside the head once more.
“Good Lord, you’re a freaking idiot!” she lectured.
Rylie barreled back against the side of her seat, her head pressed to the window, looking out for any further sucker punches. “What the hell! You said you wouldn’t pass judgment or criticize. What do you call that?”
“That was honesty, not criticism. And you’re damn lucky you have a friend like me who has such values. Now, are you ready to hear the rest of the truth?”
Rylie stared at her wide-eyed and in shock. She had just poured out her guts to Sasha, revealing her most hidden feelings and she goes all psycho bitch from hell on her. No, she really didn’t want to hear the truth, because she already knew it. She was already fully aware she was a chicken shit and was running scared, away from something that could possibly be real and special, all because she was afraid she’d get hurt. Or worse, because she didn’t know how to feel about it. The f
uture unknown was too much for her to deal with.
Sasha’s features grew soft, pulling Rylie into her arms over the center console and into a hug. “You know I love you and I only want the best for you.”
Rylie nodded in agreement, sniffling into her used tissue, still a little wary of her friend’s fast reflexes.
“Here’s the deal. You ran away from Mitch before giving him a chance because you’re scared. You’re scared that you might give him your heart and then be left holding the pieces, just like what happened when you were a kid and your mom left,” she said, placing her hand under Rylie’s chin and bringing it up to look her in the eyes. “But let me tell you something...and really listen to what I’m saying. Just because your mother left you, your dad and Dylan, doesn’t mean that other people will leave you, too. Normal people do not just walk away from those they love.”
“I know that,” she whispered with a small hiccup.
“You can’t close yourself off forever, Rylie. At some point, you’re going to meet someone who totally rocks your world. Someone you can’t stop thinking about and can’t get enough of. A guy who you not only want, but need...”
She searched Rylie’s face for a telltale sign that she’d hit the mark, but Rylie just sank further into her seat. “Whether that’s Mitch or not, I couldn’t say. But what I can tell you is that it’s obvious that you do have feelings for him. And based on the strings he’s pulled to be with you, it’s obvious he has a thing for you, too. So why not just let it happen and see where it goes from here? Go out and get to know him - enjoy his company. And for the love of all that’s holy, have great sex! You’re young, hot and single. Go out and live life like you mean it.”
Rylie stared at Sasha in silence, mulling over her little speech. And then she burst into laughter.
“That was quite a speech, Coach. I feel all motivated and shit.”
Sasha flung her ebony curls over her shoulder and chuckled. “You know it. Do I need to slap you again?”
