Page 51 of Loyalty

Without an explanation.

For a third damn time.

The sheets still felt warm when she reached over and ran her palm over them. As though maybe he had only gotten up recently, and his heat still remained on the cotton. Another whisper of hope to bury into her heart, but would likely be ripped away all too soon.

She was a realist.

She dealt in black and white.

Still, a part of her held on.

A part of her hoped.

Johnathan’s spicy scent still clung to the blankets … and her. The smell of sex still lingered in the room, too. The feeling of his kiss still lingered on her mouth, and down her body where he’d spent far too much time kissing every single inch of her. As though she was the most beautiful thing to have ever graced his presence, and he needed to show her just how much.

It had definitely happened.

They had happened.

Except where was he?

She sat up straight in the bed, and used the bedsheet to cover her from the chest down. Not that there was anyone around to see her nakedness. Not a sound echoed from outside her bedroom.

Like she needed another fucking reminder.

Something akin to sadness stabbed in her chest when she looked for the clothes Johnathan had shed the night before. Her bedroom floor now only held what remained of her club dress, and the lace panties he had taken off with his teeth. Nothing of his were anywhere to be seen.

Fuck.

The contented thrum echoing through her veins—the kind of satisfaction one could only get from great sex and a hard sleep—should have been enough for Siena. It should have kept the anger and sadness at bay about having to wake up alone.

Still, she felt those things.

Still, she wanted to give him a chance.

Maybe he was still here.

Maybe he was somewhere in the apartment.

Siena got out of the bed, and snagged an over-sized sweater hanging off the dresser. One of her favorites for the colder months. She slipped it over her head, and sunk her arms in the sleeves. Folding her arms over her chest, the coldness slipping over her skin ebbed a bit as the sweater gave her a different kind of homey warmth. She needed everything she could get at the moment.

She didn’t even bother to grab a clean pair of panties as she stepped over her crumpled dress, and forgotten things.

The sweater covered her ass, and that was enough for her to be satisfied. At least for the moment.

“John?” Siena called out.

Nothing and no one answered her back.

The apartment was still empty, although colder than it usually was when she spent time in it alone as she typically did. John was nowhere to be found.

All over again, Siena felt those stabs of anger and sadness.

A heavy sensation settled in her gut.

She’d thought, surely, their conversations and connection was not only felt by her. So why was she alone?

Why was he gone?