He glares at me, trying to hide the smile tugging at his mouth. “I painted myself into that corner, didn’t I?”
I’m just happy to see him smile. “You know I’ve always been smarter than you.”
He snorts. “Erm, who was it that mistook some girl trapped in an elevator for a hooker again?”
Even now, thinking of Rachel makes me miss her with an intensity that should be impossible. We barely know each other, and yet, it feels as if she has always been a part of my life, waiting just outside for me to open the door and let her soothe me.
“Rachel isn’t some girl,” I say quietly. Aidan’s eyebrows go up, but I don’t explain. “Are you ready to leave now, or do you need a few more days of staring into those bottles? I could give you a ride.”
“I brought my bike,” he tells me with a snicker.
I hate his bike. The thought of him on that monstrosity gives me panic attacks. “Not in this rain,” I tell him. “Stow the bike. I’m giving you a ride.”
I spend the night in New York, in Aidan’s apartment. He doesn’t need a nursemaid, but it feels good to talk and play video games and forget about the demands of my life.
The next day, I stop by the office for a few hours before heading back across the country.
It’s evening when I arrive in San Francisco. I’m eager to see Rachel, almost too eager. When I enter the suite, though, I can tell at once that it’s empty.
She probably went out for dinner. I should order something for myself and wait for her, but I’m too impatient. I call Ralph, the manager of the Rosemont, to find out if Rachel made any reservations at any of the in-house restaurants, and he says no, she left in the chauffeured car with a friend.
With a friend.
Which friend?
Alarm bells go off in my head. I’m not usually a jealous person, but the thought of anybody else having any claim to her time, or to her body…
It’s unbearable.
Calm down, Landon.
No.
She doesn’t belong to you.
For this week, she does.
My next call is the hired driver. He works for me, so in a few minutes, I have Rachel’s location.
She
’s at a lounge.
With a man.
Stay calm. I take a deep breath and go out to the balcony. Wherever she is, she’ll return after a few hours at the most.
But I want to know who she’s with. I want to know if the exclusivity rules she set for our arrangement mean anything to her.
Probably not.
The only reason she ever landed in my apartment that first night was that she was distressed over another man. She’s not mine. Sexually, I may have some hold on her, but she’s not mine, and she never has been.
The thought cuts me with a white-hot edge of jealousy.
Unable to bear waiting, I dial her number on my phone and wait for her to answer.
“Hello.” God! I’ve missed her.