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I drop my phone on the ground and cover my mouth with both hands.
Oh my God. Could my past lies and present job really make Aiden look bad?
He is so worried about the league wanting to part ways. What if sticking around could actually make his situation worse? I can’t do that. I would never do anything to hurt him. And he loves hockey. Hockey is his life.
I’m just some girl he’s known for twenty-four hours.
My phone starts to ring again and I jump, snatching up the device and putting it on silent mode. Setting it back down, I continue to panic while watching the screen light up with Denny’s number.
The thought of leaving this hotel and never seeing Aiden again makes me feel like I’m hyperventilating. I could stay. I could tell him everything and we could handle the fallout together, but…what if he decides I’m not worth the trouble of jeopardizing his career? The image he’s attempting to put back together?
I don’t think my heart could sustain the blow of his rejection.
No. My only option is to leave now and spare Aiden any bad press. Denny is capable of bad things and I’ve learned not to underestimate him.
Stop moping. You knew you couldn’t keep him.
My lungs ache as I stand and return to the bedroom, pulling on my dress silently while Aiden snores ten yards away. More than life itself, I want to crawl into the bed, cuddle into his warmth and face the music together, but I can’t. I care about him too much.
A minute later, I leave the hotel room with tears streaming down my face. On autopilot, I order an Uber, hopping into the backseat when it meets me at the curb. The city rolls by in a blur since I can’t decipher any shapes through the tears and before I know it, I’m being let out in front of the far less savory hotel where I checked in two days earlier.
I ascend to the third floor in the elevator, foreboding making my bones feel brittle.
As soon as I step off, Denny appears, slapping me so hard across the face, my ears ring and I stumble sideways, slumping to the floor. Another smack whips my head back, but I hold on to the image of Aiden and refuse to cry out.
Denny grabs me by the throat and yanks me to my feet, shoving me toward the hotel room where the other dancers wait in the doorway, sneering at me.
“Get her packed,” Denny spits. “We leave for the airport in twenty minutes.”
Aiden
I know something is wrong the moment I wake up.
For one, Lola’s ass is no longer tucked into my lap, which is a crime in my book.
Two, her pillow is cold.
My pulse starts to spin like five-pointed stars in my veins. “Lola?” I throw the covers off and climb out of bed naked. “Baby?”
Normally, I wouldn’t bother getting dressed before leaving the bedroom, but I remind myself there’s a lady in my life now. And maybe she doesn’t want to watch my balls swing before she’s had coffee. With that in mind, I hurry through the process of throwing on some sweatpants and go in search of Lola. First, I’m going to ask if she has plans today. If she does, I’m going to dirty talk her into cancelling them so I can take her to fucking Paris or something. I don’t know. But it’s going to be good.
“Lola?” I try again, silencing greeting me.
I’ve been trying to distract myself with optimism, but the more I explore the palatial hotel room, the harder it’s getting to deny she’s gone.
She’s gone.
What is that sound?
It takes me a moment to realize it’s me. I’m wheezing.
I’m turning in circles and rubbing at the middle of my chest, as if she’s going to appear.
Where the hell has she gone?
Was she lying when she said she loved our rough sex? Did I fuck this up?
“Lola!”
I’m trying to formulate a game plan for tracking her down—did I really forget to ask for her goddamn phone number?—when I hear a familiar jingle of notes.
My phone. It’s ringing where I left it on the couch last night. I’m already abandoning hope that it’s going to be Lola, since she doesn’t have my number, but I pounce on it anyway. “Hello?”
“Damn, Tulane,” says my manager. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be chipper as fuck this morning.”
I get down on my knees and look for Lola under the couch. I’m that desperate. “Why?” I ask absently, climbing back to my feet.
“The league is shortening your suspension. They’re thrilled about the apology you issued last night on Twitter. Turn on SportsCenter. They’re touting you like a hero!”
“Look, that’s great, but I need to find…” I double over, my vision splitting into two. My body is being axed down the middle. “I need to find Lola. Now. She’s gone.”
