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Turning, I headed back in and went straight to my room. I didn’t want to shower since I could still smell her on my body, but I forced myself to do it. I got dressed and made my way downstairs. As I descended the steps, I could hear that the cleaning crew was already there. Amber and her husband, Drake, were two of the nicest people I had ever met. They owned the cleaning company and had a plethora of people to come in and clean, but they always did my place personally. I wasn’t sure if it was because I had been one of their first clients and gave them a shot, or if it was because damn near the entire team used them after I referred them. Either way, they always took care of the place after a celebration party. I never even had to call them; they just knew to show up after a home win.
As I made my way into the living room, I glanced around. They must have gotten here early because the living room looked spotless. Even the wall of windows sparkled. I had a thirteen-million-dollar penthouse designed by one of the best architects in the country, yet I still felt out of place in it. It was supposed to be serene, but it felt cold to me. The two-hundred-and seventy-degree views from the floor-to-ceiling windows were nice enough. But the view wasn’t what I had grown up with. It offered up rich light woods and marble floors. A bar area with a pool table, a home cinema, a large office with a library, and a spa-like bathroom with its own steam shower and hot sauna. Not to mention the state-of-the-art kitchen that would make any chef green with envy, yet it had never felt like home to me. Hell, I never had to leave the damn place. I had a view of the Space Needle and Lake Union, yet it was missing one thing. It wasn’t Montana. It wasn’t home. During the off season, I always went back to my home state. I had a small house I lived in not far from my parents. It was perfect for a bachelor, and when I was there, I was at my happiest. The people there didn’t care if I was a professional athlete, they still treated me like I was just a regular person. Strange since I was living my dream. I loved baseball, but I had to admit that the past few months something had been off. Most likely caused from the pain in my pitching shoulder.
When I stepped into the kitchen, I found Nick and Loren in there already. Loren was at the table, and Nick was making eggs and bacon.
“I was wondering when you would emerge,” Nick said, looking up from the meal he was preparing.
“Where did you disappear to?” Loren asked.
I frowned as I poured a cup of coffee. Had she not spoken to Rose yet? When had she left? Would she give me Rose’s number?
“I spent some time up on the roof.”
Leaning back against the counter, I waited for her to say something, but she took a bite of her bagel and kept reading something on her phone. Then it buzzed with a text, and she dropped her bagel.
“What in the living hell?”
“What’s wrong?” Nick and I both asked Loren.
She turned around and looked at us. “Rose just texted me from the airport. She’s taking an earlier flight and heading back to Montana.”
“Did she say why?” Nick asked.
Loren slowly shook her head. “I’m the worst friend ever. I left her last night to mingle at the party alone, and I don’t even know what time she went back to my place.”
I wasn’t sure if Rose would want me to tell them what happened between us last night, so I kept my mouth shut.
“You’re not a bad friend, baby,” Nick said, pulling her up and hugging her. He looked at me over her head, a shit-eating grin on his face, and I was pretty sure Nick knew what had happened between us and wasn’t about to tell Loren until Rose did.
“She’ll never want to come back to Seattle ever again. We were supposed to celebrate her graduation before she officially started her new job…the one she’s been dreading.”
A strange twist in my chest had me set my coffee down, realizing I needed to get out of here. “Ummm, I think I’m going to go for a run before we watch films.”
Nick gave me a head nod as he kissed Loren on top of the head while she went on and on about what a terrible friend she was.
I couldn’t get out of the kitchen fast enough because it was obvious my roommate knew everything I wasn’t saying.
I hadn’t heard a damn thing the coach said. My mind drifted back to last night. The moment I first saw Rose standing in the middle of my kitchen popping an olive into her mouth as she surveyed everything with a sharp eye. Then to us sitting in the hammock talking about the stars. The night would have been one of the best of my life, even if we hadn’t slept together. I had never felt so comfortable with any other woman. Not even Kennedy, who didn’t care about my life before baseball. She had argued with me for months about going to Montana to see my parents until she finally gave in. While there she had managed to pull her face out of her phone long enough to give them a cursory greeting, and that was about it.
