How in the hell did I find this woman? Twice.
Her fingers move to my chest. “I need to get ready for work.”
I do too.
I watch her sexy, lush ass sway as she walks toward the bathroom.
Once the door closes behind her, I’m on my feet searching for my phone.
I know I shut it off in frustration and tossed it toward a chair near the window.
I push my clothes aside and find it, pushing the button to power it back up.
Tugging on my boxer briefs, I’m assaulted with a symphony of noises.
Chimes, bells and dings penetrate the silence in the room.
I scoop the phone into my palm and scan the screen.
Fuck.
I stalk across the room to the bathroom and swing open the door.
She’s there, nude and standing in front of the mirror. The shower hasn’t been turned on.
“Angel,” I say breathlessly, a combination of pure desire for her and fear over what my selfishness last night has cost me. “I need to go.”
“Now?” Her brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”
My phone starts ringing in my palm. “I have to take this.”
“Go.” She waves her hand in the air. “We’ll talk later.”
I turn and shut the door behind me before I put on my clothes, grab my wallet and keys and race out of her apartment.
***
“I picked up a sandwich for you.” Blythe drops a white paper bag on my desk. “I got a call last night.”
I look down at my watch. It’s well past noon. I made it into the office a half hour ago after spending the morning at the hospital and then at my place. “Thanks for the sandwich.”
“You were nowhere to be found.” She looks at the chairs opposite my desk. “Can I sit?”
I tilt my chin up. “I won’t stop you.”
She settles into one, crossing her legs at the knee. The bright orange dress she’s wearing is conservative for her. “Can I speak freely?”
Leaning back in my chair, I wave my hand in the air. “Be my guest.”
She studies me as if she’s choosing her words wisely. “I know that you changed your will.”
My jaw tightens. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Your lawyer sent it back over this morning.” She sucks in a deep breath. “I opened the envelope to see what it was.”
I point to the large white envelope on my desk. “It’s clearly stamped personal and confidential, Blythe. Do I need to buy you a goddamn dictionary so you can read up on the definition of those two words?”
A small smile breaks her serious demeanor. “If you do, look up the definition of friend. I consider myself one of yours.”