Josh shook his head. “You don’t have them, I take it?”
“I’ll get Nora to let me in.” I knocked. “You don’t need to wait. I’m sure she’s home.”
Josh seemed skeptical as he huffed. “I’ll wait.”
I texted Nora. After three messages and two calls, she finally called me back.
“Girl, this better be good,” she said breathlessly.
“I’m locked out and need you to let me in!”
“Shit. Sorry, girl. I’m not home. I am out with…” Nora paused, as if she was recalling his name.
“Tyler,” I heard him grunt in the background, which led me to believe they were still mid-activity.
“Can you wait for like an—” a small moan escaped her.
“Never mind,” I groaned, not wanting to hear anymore.
“Come on,” Josh said, peeling himself from the wall and slinging my bag over his shoulder. He guided us to the elevator. “Unless sleeping in the hall is a thing for you?”
This topped my list of embarrassing nights.Stood up and locked out.Just batting a thousand. The ding of the elevator sounded at the end of the hall, making me hurry to find Josh holding the door open. He gestured for me to get inside. This should be interesting.
CHAPTER 8
JOSH
As I led April to my penthouse, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. But what was I supposed to do? Leave her there? Make her wait for her friend to finish getting laid like a college roomie? No. The only choice was to bring her back to my place.
My condo was pitch black, except for the light above the stove. I kicked off my cross trainers and flipped on the hall switch. I hung April’s bag and my keys on the rack beside the door.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home,” I told her, waving her inside.
April nervously followed me. “I’m sure Nora won’t be that long.”
It was hard not to scoff. What I heard coming through the phone told me there was no way they were rushing.
“April, you and I both know the chances of her making it home are slim to none, so text her and tell her you have a place to crash and not to bother.”
Her nose scrunched up in an adorable way, as if she was both relieved and defeated. She sighed and pulled her phone from her purse while I made my way to the kitchen.
“Water? Beer? Wine?” I tugged out the wine bottle, removing the cap and giving it a whiff just in case. Smelled alright.
“Water,” she said, still standing in the middle of my living room, gazing around like she had no idea what to do.
“Here.” I handed her a bottle of water.
“It’s not what I thought,” she absently responded, checking out the view of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake.
“What do you mean?”
“First, it’s way cleaner in here than I expected, and it’s normal.”
“Normal?” I paused. “Instead of what?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you would have sports stuff hanging on the walls or a pool table. Sex swing. Something that screamed bachelor with too much money.”
Sex swing?“So many things to unpack there.”
