Page 61 of Sexy

“An hour ago?”

She gives me a flustered look and starts to answer, but I don’t wait. I just turn on my heel and go back to the elevator. An hour ago? That means he wasn’t with Elizabeth for very long. So what’s he been doing?

I walk quickly to the North Tower elevators, pressing the button repeatedly until it opens and a bunch of people spill out dressed up for a night of fun. I smile politely and get in after they leave, and press the button for his floor.

The doors close and I slump back against the mirrored wall, trying to figure this all out. What is he up to?

When I get to fifteen I exit the elevator and head straight to his suite at the end of the hall. I press my ear again the door and listen. There’s some music, but it’s not loud. Does he have another girl in there? How many can he have in one night?

I knock hard and wait. I don’t hear anything, but the door locks disengage and he pulls the door open. “’Bout time, ass—Tiffy? What are you doing here?”

I’m speechless. He’s got no shirt on, so my eyes sorta get stuck on the topography of his abs. There’s a light dusting of blond happy trail that leads me to the fact that he’s only wearing a pair of cut-off sweat shorts that end just below his knees, and before I can stop myself, I’m staring right at the bump of his package under those shorts. “Ummm.” What am I doing here? “Cole… he found Elizabeth on the beach and…” I look up and meet Fletcher’s gaze. He’s squinting at me, confused. Shit. I’ve been stalking him all night and if I tell him that he’s gonna think I’m crazy. “I need more tips, Fletcher. I think he really likes her.” Fletcher shoots me a dubious look. And that’s when I notice how different he looks. “You wear glasses?”

He smiles, like he was just caught doing something bad, and pulls them off his face. “Just when I’m working.”

“You’re working? But it’s Saturday night.’” I lean over to look past him. His dining table is littered with papers and an open laptop. He really is working.

“You wanna come in?” he asks. “Or are you just here checking up on me?”

I blush. Because that’s exactly what I’m doing.

“If you want Cole, you have to make him jealous, Tiffy. I pegged him for a guy who wants what he can’t have the very first time I met him. So come in,” Fletcher says, opening the door wide. “I’ve got a plan.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tiffy Preston is a tease. And she doesn’t have to bite her lip or bare her leg or any of that other bullshit for me to know this. She looks at me like she’s hungry. She did it last week when I took her up on the roof and she’s doing it right now because her eyes are tracing all up and down my body in a way that makes it necessary to adjust myself under my shorts.

“What plan?” she asks, barely able to drag her stare back up to my face.

I wave her into my room, acutely aware of the stacks of papers on my table, the open laptop on my table, the TV blaring this week’s predictions from repeats of the Friday stock reports, and my lack of clothing. Not that she hasn’t seen everything. But I’m pushing my own self-control here.

There’s another knock at the door and I breathe out a sigh of relief as I go answer it.

“Hey, Fletch,” John the waiter says. “Sorry it took so long. We’re swamped down—” He stops when he sees Tiffy. “Oh, um, hi, Miss Preston.”

“Tiffy and I have business,” I say, motioning to my out-of-control paperwork. “So we’re eating in tonight.”

“Oh, sure,” John says, pushing the cart into the room. He starts setting up the food and then notices he only brought one plate and serving set.

I stop him before he opens his mouth. “I’m not hungry, John. So Miss Preston will be the only one dining.”

“OK,” John says with a smile.

A minute later he’s walking back to the door and I slip him a twenty. “Do not say she was here. You got it?”

“I got it, dude,” he says with a fake salute. “Later.”

I close the door and turn back to Tiffy. She’s leaning over the room service cart, inhaling the aroma. “Hungry?”

“Sorry.” She laughs. “I never got dinner.” She gives herself a little mental shake to get back on point. “I asked him out, Fletch, and he said no. So I asked about tomorrow, and all he was interested in was that trampy assistant. I’m not a good player. There is no way he’s interested in me.”

I’m not listening to any of that. Maybe two words get through my brain. Because her hair is all crazy disheveled, like she’s been in bed. Or out by the beach. I inhale as her lips move and I think I smell the lake on her. That sweet scent I grew up with. It reminds me of home. And that thought derails everything.

Fucking home.

“You listening to me?”

“Yeah.” She’s got another summer dress on. It’s yellow and stands out against her perfect skin. Her eyes dart up and down my body as she talks and when she notices me noticing that, she closes her eyes and blushes a bright pink.