23. Bailey

I staredat the woman in the mirror and wasn't quite sure I recognized who I saw. Did I look different, or was it just my imagination? I expected there to be dark circles under my eyes since I hadn't slept a wink, but instead, I looked fresh as a daisy. I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as Grandma Betty used to say. My eyes were twinkling under the bathroom lighting. My skin was dewy and clear.

Did good sex actually make you glow? Was there any scientific proof of that phenomenon? If there was, would everyone know that I'd had sex?

No. I was being ridiculous. Which tracked, considering my circumstances. I was about to go spend the day at the spa with my ex's bride-to-be. I'd even been the one to make appointments for the massages, facials, manicures, and pedicures. And I'd slept with the man I'd thought I was paying to attend Simon's wedding with me.

Three-months-ago me, never would have seen this coming.

Three-months-ago you, weren't coming at all, Trevor's voice sounded in my head.

He had a point. Out of all of the emotions I was feeling this morning, guilt over my actions last night was not one of them. I'd always enjoyed sex, but the level of enjoyment was very dependent on the partner I was with.

If my sex life was rated on a scale from one to ten, with ten being the best, most amazing sex humanly possible; all my encounters before last night would have fallen into the four to seven range. Which wasn't bad.

Simon was always above average. He made me feel good. There'd been some fives, but they were mostly all sevens. The six other guys I'd slept with, not including Cole, were all fours with a few fives.

But last night, last night had been tens—all three times. After we ate room service, we'd had sex again. Then we'd laid in bed talking for about an hour before round three. I'd had five orgasms total. Five. In the span of six hours. Each one was somehow better than the last.

Was that why my skin looked like I was a spokesperson for Neutrogena?

My phone vibrated on the counter. I jumped at the sound and quickly picked it up, forgetting to check the caller ID before hitting the green icon and pressing it to my ear.

"Shit," I cursed beneath my breath before whispering, "Hey."

"Why are you whispering?" Olivia asked.

"I'm in the bathroom."

"Is Birdie still asleep?" Olivia must have automatically ruled out Billie since my eldest sister woke every morning before the crack of dawn. She'd been like that since we were kids.

"I don't know," I said quietly. "I didn't stay with them."

"Oh. Where did you stay?"

"With Cole."

"Good."

"Good?" I repeated.

"Yes, good. Did you sleep with him?"

Olivia did not do small talk or beat around the bush. If she wanted to know something, she asked. I'd always admired that quality in her. I could talk in circles for days and never come out and say what I actually wanted to say.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Was it good?"

"Yes." Good didn't even come close to covering it.

"So why are you hiding in the bathroom?"

"I'm not hiding." If I were Pinocchio, my nose would have just grown a foot. I changed the subject. "How are you? How are you feeling?"

She sighed. "Tired, but good."

"How are things with your mom?" Olivia's husband, Ben, played in the NFL and was gone most weekends traveling for games. When he was out of town, he insisted Olivia's mom stay with her, even though she lived next door. Their relationship had been strained when she was growing up, but now, as adults, they were forming a new relationship.

"Okay. She's been cooking. A lot."

"That's…good."

"So why are you hidi—" Olivia's voice cut out before I heard her say, "Oh, Ben's calling. I gotta go. Stop hiding in the bathroom. Remember what Trevor said."

Trevor said a lot of things. "What?"

"The best way?—"

"To get over someone is to get under someone hotter," I finished. "Got it. Tell Ben I said hi."

The call disconnected, and I told myself that despite what I'd told my bestie, I had been hiding in the bathroom, and it was time to suck it up, Buttercup. I'm not sure my Grandpa Will would approve of me using his motto to psych myself up to do the walk of shame. Technically this wasn't the walk of shame. Or maybe it was.

That was the thing about never casually dating; I had no clue what the rules were. I'd only ever spent the night with men I was in a relationship with. This was all new to me.

Hopefully, Cole would still be asleep, and I'd be able to sneak out undetected. I was making a mental game plan for my exit, including grabbing the card key off the nightstand and my purse from beside the bed, when I quietly turned the doorknob and crept out.

"Hey!"

I jumped and turned around to find Cole not only awake; his hair was wet as if he'd taken a shower, and he was dressed in a polo shirt and slacks, ready for the day. He was seated at the table he'd bent me over after we ate room service last night, sipping a cup of coffee. The empty plates from last night were gone, and in their place was a spread of breakfast foods.

"Hey." I smiled. "Did you…take a shower?"

There was only one bathroom in the suite, so I wasn't sure how he'd accomplished that.

"Yeah. I went down to the gym and used the changing room." He grinned. "I didn't know how long you were going to be, and I didn't want to disturb you."

Great. So, he either thought I was in there actually using the bathroom or he thought I took two hours to get ready. Neither was the impression I wanted him to have.

"Sorry, yeah, I was, um…" I lifted my phone. "Answering emails."

"I didn't know what you wanted, so I got a little of everything." He motioned to the array of fruit, croissants, pancakes, muffins, bacon, eggs, and sausage.

"Oh, um, I was. I'm going to the spa, for, um, yeah, the spa day." In the light of day, I felt flustered around him. I was nervous because I didn't know post-sex-marathon etiquette.

He stood, and the room felt smaller. It wasn't just his imposing physical stature that made the space suddenly shrink; it was his dominating presence. He might be young, but he had an air of authority that caused him to command any room.

Over the past few months, when I'd seen him at weddings, I'd observed how people noticed and responded to him. He was a magnet that people were drawn to. Men wanted to be friends with him, and women wanted to be near him for other reasons. He had a strong gravitational pull.

Last night had been no exception. I'd seen him speaking to Mr. Prescott and Simon's fraternity brothers. They weren't a group that easily let people in, especially those who weren't in their social and economic spheres. But they'd welcomed him with open arms. He'd gotten a lot of shoulder slaps and offers of taking shots, which was the universal bro code for acceptance.

As he walked toward me, I felt flutters in my belly. My knees grew weaker with each step he took. I was sore in places I didn't know I could be sore, but that was not stopping my hormones from stretching for round four.

He stopped in front of me, reached down, and picked up the key card on the side table. "Have fun at the spa. I'll see you later this afternoon. I have my phone if you need me."

"Where are you going?" I didn't mean for the question to sound so accusatory, but I was just surprised he had plans.

"Mr. Prescott invited me to golf."

"You're going to go golfing with Simon?" I'd seen the itinerary, of course. I'd booked the course for Simon, his dad, and frat brothers, but I hadn't imagined that Cole would be joining the men for the activity. "You don't have to…you can just relax."

"Isn't golf relaxing?"

"Have you ever played? You know Simon, his father, and his friends take golf very seriously. They play nearly every weekend and are regulars at amateur tournaments."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"I'm not worried; I just?—"

My response was cut off when Cole lifted his hands, cupped my face, lowered his head, and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss took me by surprise, but my momentary shock was replaced by a warm glow that spread through me like butter melting in a frying pan.

His tongue slid between my lips, and when it met mine, they intertwined in what felt like a sensual, choreographed dance. The tips of his fingers pressed into the back of my neck as he tilted my head in just the right position to deepen the kiss.

I didn't just lean into Cole; I melted against him as I grasped his shoulders to anchor myself. If it were up to my legs, I'd be a puddle on the floor. Time both stood still and flew by as I lost myself in his kiss. My mind went blank with complete surrender as he explored my mouth with gentle strokes of his tongue, and his lips pressed against mine with the perfect amount of tenderness and pressure.

I'd never felt like I was being made love to with just a kiss, but that's exactly how I felt at that moment. The flutter that had started in my belly turned to an ache as my ovaries jumped up and down and waved their arms. If it were possible to get pregnant from making out, I would be carrying this man's child.

The kiss ended as slowly and sensually as it began. His soft lips gently kissed mine before his mouth moved up to my forehead. "Don't forget to eat," he instructed before pressing one more smooch against my head.

And then he was gone.

I'm not sure how long I stood, dazed, staring at the door. My mind was blank. Every time that man kissed me, it was like his lips were a neuralyzer from Men in Black. I forgot my name, where I was, and what I was supposed to be doing.

It was unnerving.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a text from Birdie giving me a rendezvous point to meet her and Billie so we could all go to the spa together. I hadn't been looking forward to this spa day with Devin and her wedding party, but now, now I was glad to have some time away from Cole to put up some defenses. If I wasn't careful, this weekend would end up breaking my heart. And it wouldn't have anything to do with Simon.