Now Or Never by Stella Rhys

12

HOLLAND

The glareof the sun woke me in the morning, and considering the total lack of natural light in my East Village apartment, I knew where I was before I even opened my eyes.

I was at the hotel.

In the bed where Iain had brought me and told me to sleep.

I’d lost track of how long we stayed here last night. Just breathing. Recovering with his magnificent body braced over mine. At one point, I had opened my eyes, and all I could see was his muscled shoulder just inches from my lips, and his flexed tricep as he caged me in. Something about it had made me feel so secure, and with every heavy exhalation, he had lulled me deeper into some heavenly place so warm and far away that I briefly forgot the night had to end.

Of course, the reminder came soon enough.

He had been the first to get up, and though I couldn’t imagine having sex again at that particular moment, the void he left when he pulled out was so emptying it hurt.

Then seeing him get dressed had been such an unexpected punch to the gut that I’d rushed to get dressed too—just to remind myself that I too was an adult. One who was perfectly capable of having casual sex.

I had pretended I didn’t hear Iain say my name as I trotted stiffly outside, and I was haphazardly dressed by the time he reached me in the living room, removing my MetroCard from my hand and setting it aside as he said, “Sleep here, Holland. You need to rest.”

And he’d been right about that.

I could barely stand straight let alone keep my eyes open. He could see that, and that was the reason he was telling me to stay. Repeatedly, I told myself that.

Yet I still let those three dumb words blurt out of my mouth.

“What about you?”

He had studied me for a moment before saying, “My driver will be here shortly.”

Which stung.

But it was expected. After all, that was our agreement.

And now you get to check crazy hot one-night stand off your All Grown Up checklist and move on with your life, because that’s what you agreed to, and that’s what emotionally mature women do,I reminded myself, hugging the down pillow under my stomach as I finally opened my eyes to look at the room in the light of the day.

And right away, I had to squint, because through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the lustrous sun poured in, spilling directly onto the bed, and spotlighting it like a heavenly white island in the middle of the room.

It made me wonder what our bodies had looked like on this bed. What the lines of muscle in Iain’s backside had looked like when he’d had me nailed to the mattress by my wrists while fucking me absolutely senseless.

“Goddd,” I groaned aloud, rolling my head back as I got up to go to the bathroom.

My expectations for last night had been high and still, he’d blown them out of the water. Completely annihilated them, because New York Iain was polished and cultured, and a man of restraint.

But that wasn’t at all the case in the bedroom.

There was clearly one area where he was still the Iain I knew. The Iain who had a need for speed. Who got into bar fights alongside my brother, and indulged his love for all things fast, hard and a little bit crazy. Yes, he was the head of a big, fancy company now, and yes, he boasted the most impeccable grooming and utterly stoic efficiency. But there was still an animal under that three-thousand-dollar suit.

And something about that turned me the fuck on.

It had me feeling hot all over again, as well as desperate to know who this new Iain really was. How exactly he’d changed since the day he abandoned his old life to start over in the city.

Long story short, I wanted more of Iain.

It felt like I needed more of him. Thanks to last night, I’d opened up the floodgates of my crush on him again, and this time, it was a million times worse because this time, I knew so much more.

I knew what his hard cock felt like in my hand. How it tasted in my mouth.

I knew what it was like to come while he had me filled to the hilt, and all that knowledge fed my fascination to absolutely dangerous levels. Levels that were going to cause me a world of pain, because as ruinously fucking good as last night was, I wasn’t going to let myself ask for more.

I was hellbent on being an adult about this.

I’d given Iain my word, and the last thing I wanted was to come off as an inexperienced child who was emotionally in over her head—who’d gotten herself foolishly attached to the first man to give her a dick-induced orgasm. Even if there was a shred of truth to that—which, okay, there very possibly was—I wasn’t going to let anyone know it.

Least of all myself.

So after I peed, brushed my teeth, and wiped off last night’s smudged mascara, I went out to the living room, where all my stuff was. I prepared to take the A train home so I could hop in the shower, change into work clothes and head to the office, because dammit, I was determined to make this day as ordinary as any other.

But when I unzipped the front pocket of my backpack and slipped my fingers inside, I felt nothing.

Right away, my eyes bugged wide.

“No!” I hissed, suddenly frozen.

And to anyone watching it would’ve seemed like a serious overreaction, but one, I deliberately kept my MetroCard in the same place every day, and two, it was a thirty-day unlimited. It cost me a hundred-thirty dollars and I’d justbought it two days ago, which meant it was brand spanking new with an entire month’s worth of rides left on it.

Where the hell could I have—

“Ohhh.”

Suddenly, I remembered that Iain had taken it out of my hand yesterday.

But where did he put it? Didn’t he put it right here?

My head whipped to look at the table next to the couch, and when I saw nothing I dropped to my hands and knees, searching every inch of the ground and under the couch before getting back up and digging through the cushions.

Then I spent the next fifteen to twenty minutes searching every other square inch of the suite including the bathroom, because dammit, I knew how it’d look if I texted Iain asking about my MetroCard. I’d look like a silly little schoolgirl finding any flimsy excuse to talk to her crush, and for the love of God, I’d already gone through the mental pep talks and gotten myself fully prepared to be an adult about this.

“You know what?” I said aloud, standing in the middle of the room, breathless as I took a break from my frantic search.

For the sake of your pride, maybe just eat the hundred-thirty dollars,I thought. Call it a loss. Carry on with your life.

But my nose wrinkled as I thought about how someone had gotten me fired from my other job, and it wasn’t like the cash I’d saved for the bed couldn’t be used toward my student loans.

Iain’s rich. You’re not, I reminded myself.

Plus a part of the All Grown Up checklist—which was very much real—was about sticking up for myself. Adam used to implore me endlessly to speak up when I felt wronged—namely by Mom—but I hadn’t really started till moving out.

And to be fair, no one had really done anything to warrant me having to stick up for myself. Except for Lana at my old waitressing job. But Mia always jumped in like an angry mama bear before I could even open my mouth, so technically, I hadn’t once stuck up for myself yet.

So…

I waffled with myself for another ten seconds before grabbing my phone, rapidly typing up a text and firing it off to Iain before I could even stop myself.

ME: Hey. I can’t find my monthly MetroCard and I’ve looked everywhere for it. Do you remember where you put it?

It was simple. Straight-forward. Deliberately stripped of anything besides the necessary information.

Still, it made my cheeks burn because I hated thinking about what Iain looked like upon seeing my name lighting his screen just hours after he’d left me. He’d probably groaned under his breath and thought should’ve known or here we go.

Standing in the middle of the giant room, I held my phone in both hands, reading and re-reading my text till I saw the three dots to indicate that he was typing.

They blinked for less than two seconds before his equally straight-forward text came through.

IAIN:I sent an assistant to buy you a new one. You can pick it up at reception.

I stared for a moment.

Then I felt a fresh wave of heat flood my face and my ears, because I hadn’t intended for Iain to buy me a new MetroCard, and there was something vaguely mortifying about the second line of his text. It was like a stern reiteration that he would not be seeing me again.

But once I got over how very embarrassed I was, I breathed in deep through my nose and reminded myself that I had bought that thing with hard-earned cash. I had every right to get my stupid MetroCard, so slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I marched out the door with a mantra.

Get in, get out.

And then get on with your life.