to see if . . . ah . . . yeah . . .” He kind of laughed, to hide a
groan. He sounded like a moron. “So, now that I’ve put out, are you dissing me?” he asked, trying to
sound playful.
“I made breakfast. I can swing by the office and maybe we can eat it together. I don’t want to waste
your groceries or anything. Give me a call.”
He hung up and threw his cell phone onto Jenna’s couch. Well, wasn’t that smooth? Fucking brilliant. He
sounded like an adolescent after his first lay, but hell, he had no experience with this. He never made the
“after sex” calls. Those were placed by his lovers, cajoling and whining and bribing him to return their
calls. And he’d mostly ignored them. But Jenna? What the hell did she think, he was going to walk out on
her before she woke up? Maybe she did, and she wanted to beat him to it.
Maybe,the evil voice in his head whispered,she does this with all the guys she’s been with. Or worse,
maybe she’s really not that into you. Maybe you were just a body to get it on with.
The sizzling from the nearby griddle drew his attention, and mercifully pulled him out of his black
thoughts. Picking up the spatula, he started flipping the pancakes he’d made, trying not to think about
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how much of an idiot he’d been. Had he actually believed she was just in the shower?
Of course he had, because he never could have believed that Jenna was a screw-and-cruise kind of girl.
So naturally he thought Jenna had been in the shower, taking a few extra minutes in the hot water to work
out those stiff muscles she likely had after their hot and sweaty sex last night. So, while she was
showering and getting ready for work, and because he didn’t have an appointment till ten that morning,
he’d decided to go to the kitchen and surprise her with a birthday breakfast. As he worked, he kept an
eye on the closed bathroom door, waiting for it to fly open, catching a quick flash of Jenna, all flushed
and wet, wrapped in a thick white towel.
Twenty minutes later, he’d found himself standing in the middle of the bathroom realizing she’d left him
alone in the apartment without so much as a note in lipstick on the bathroom mirror.
He’d been stunned and oddly hurt.
The pancakes were finished, and he piled them high on a plate before slipping them into the warm oven.
Reaching for the bowl, he scooped more batter onto the griddle while trying to think about anything other
than Jenna. No such luck. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, or how damn good they’d been together.
Two full-blown orgasms and he still wanted more.
Spending the night in bed with her had been a slice of heaven he never knew existed. He’d slept like the
proverbial baby, and that was saying something, because since the fiasco withCelebrity Gossip he hadn’t
slept for more than two hours at a time. Mostly, he spent the nights pacing the floors of his condo,
worrying about how he was going to dig himself out of the shit pile. But last night. Man, last night had
been so great. Cathartic. And when he awoke that morning, he’d reached for her, hoping to feel more of
her gorgeous ass filling his hand, waking her up as he made slow love to her as the sun crept up above
the clouds. But instead of soft flesh, his hand had come into contact with nothing but the cool white sheet.
Now here he was, making breakfast and wondering what the hell he’d done. Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed
herself quite as much as he thought—hoped—she had. Maybe she was afraid. Mornings after could be
such a bitch, and granted, this one was going to be a touch awkward, but nothing they couldn’t have
handled.
Maybe she just doesn’t want to be bothered with you.
And wasn’t that a bit of rotten karma. Because this was the way he’d pretty much treated all the women
in his life. At leasthe usually said goodbye.
Cleaning up, he