No one had his apartment number yet but the front desk and his agent. “Damone,” he mumbled into the receiver.“I’ll be there in fifteen. Just giving you the heads-up.” Garrett sounded tired, too.Nick rolled onto his back, alone in his big empty bed. He wanted Holly’s naked ass pressed against his hip. Not only for some morning nookie—although that would have been good, too—but because...well, he didn’t know why exactly. Because waking up alone this morning sucked when usually it left him feeling relieved.He knew she was gone, had heard her quietly fumble her way out the door near dawn. It had taken every measure of self-control not to jump up and stop her. Escort her home. Take her to a diner for breakfast. Something.But she’d said one night, and she’d meant it. Letting her leave on her own terms had felt right at the time.Now it felt vaguely stupid.“Nick. Are you there? Drunk?”“Yes. And no.” Staring at the ceiling, he pictured Holly moving over him. Shifting her weight every time he came close, to draw out his orgasm.
