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Then he opened his bedroom door and sent me on my merry way.
Chapter Four
Luca
Foronce,Iarrivedat the gym on time.
Only a half hour after Elliot and Weston, which was on time for me. With my late nights, mornings were a struggle. But last night, once I’d cleared Vincent’s guests from my apartment and taken care of the raging erection left by the leggy, quirky blonde who’d utterly destroyed my sheets in the best way, I’d slept like a fucking baby.
Only to wake up early this morning rock hard, the memory of her taste still sweet on my lips.
Elliot Levy, my friend since our Stanford days, lifted an unimpressed brow through his reflection in the mirror as he did bicep curls. My definition of early differed from Elliot’s by a mile. He had never once arrived anywhere more than a millisecond past the appointed time.
I climbed on the open treadmill beside Weston, the third member of our trio. He’d have said I was the third member since he and Elliot had been friends since childhood, but I had shoved myself snug in the middle of the two of them, so there was no way I was number three.
Weston glanced at me while he kept up his fast clip. “You look rested for once.”
“I am. I was asleep by eleven.”
“In your own bed?”
“Yes.” I punched some buttons on the control panel, and the treadmill got started. “All alone too.”
On fresh sheets, which I didn’t mention. Though a sick, filthy part of me had been tempted to lie in that pretty girl’s mess. If I had, there wouldn’t have been any sleep for me, and my dick would have ended up chafed from a night of stroking it.
He tapped a button, slowing his pace to match mine.
“You went to bed alone?”
“You sound like you don’t believe me, West.”
“It’s not that.” He swiped his sweaty forehead with the collar of his shirt. “You’re not one to brag about sleeping alone. That leads me to believe there’s more to this story.”
He had me. I needed to talk about what had gone down with Sasha last night, but for the first time, possibly ever, I really didn’t want to share any of the finer details. Weston would be grateful for that. He always humored me, but he wasn’t on tenterhooks to hear about my hookup’s tit size or the joys of bedding a former gymnast. West was quiet about it, but he’d had his fair share of women over the years. No doubt anything I had to say was old news.
Now that he was with Elise, who happened to be Elliot’s younger sister, those days were history for him. The fucker was the happiest I’d ever seen him too.
“There was a last hurrah,” I told him.
Elliot strolled over, wiping his face with a small towel. “Why last?” He sat down on the circuit machine in front of the treadmills.
“I met with the consultants the board hired yesterday.”
Elliot’s chin lowered. “And? What did they have to say?”
“I have a bad reputation.”
Weston barked a dry laugh. “That’s an understatement. Were consultants necessary to tell you that?”
“Like I said, the board brought them in. They did a top-to-bottom evaluation of my image.”
Elliot paused his leg press. “And what did they conclude?”
I shook my head and let out a humorless laugh. “That it’s a bad look for the new CEO of Rossi Motors to be dubbed ‘The Playboy CEO’ by CNBC.”
Weston chuffed. “Let me guess, they conducted a focus group and wrote a ten-page report to deliver this information to you.”
“Wrong.” I flashed him a grin I didn’t quite feel. Having my life taken over wasn’t exactly conducive to good humor. “Fifteen.”
