Six

Maya

My eyes flew wide open at the deep sound of a snore right beside me.

Slowly, I turned my head to the left.

It was Devon.

And yup, he was actually fast asleep right next to me.

The undeniable proof that last night was not just some fever dream.

Congratulations, Maya. You officially just survived and experienced the very first one-night stand of your entire life.

And the most thrilling part of this whole situation?

I have absolute zero idea whether this guy is actually single, secretly engaged, or married with three kids. Suddenly, a massive, sharp migraine started throbbing behind my eyes at the mere thought.

Shit.

Oh my god. What if he actually is married?!

The sheer panic hit me all at once, and I bolted upright in bed.

I tried to check his left hand for a ring stealthily, but as I peeked under the heavy comforter, I found his hand resting comfortably inside of his boxer shorts, cupping his own testicles.

Nope.

I am not digging around down there.

I chose the only logical option left: escape this nightmare as fast as humanly possible.

Carefully, I slid out from beneath the sheets.

The moment my bare feet touched the floor, I scrambled to hunt down my scattered clothes.

To my surprise, they were neatly folded on top of the writing desk—something I was pretty damn sure Devon had done himself before we fell asleep.

I grabbed my outfit and yanked my skinny jeans back on.

I was just about to pull my t-shirt over my head when the bed creaked as Devon shifted.

I froze mid-motion.

Then, he rolled back over, let out a soft groan, and went right back to snoring.

Ugh, thank god!

Screw this.

I’m getting the hell out of here before he catches me mid-escape.

I scooped up the very last of my belongings lying on the floor—my prized baby Jimmy Choos—my cross-body bag, looped their straps over my forearm, and tiptoed my way out the door.

The sun was already blindingly bright by the time I made it down to the lobby.

According to the receptionist, I was still somewhere in the heart of Manhattan, which instantly relieved a tiny fraction of my skyrocketing anxiety.

The front desk agent must have noticed I looked like a sweaty, disheveled mess drowning in an oversized T-shirt, because he immediately flagged down a yellow cab for me.

"Your cab is waiting right out front, ma'am. License plate number 43671," he announced.

"Thank you so much for the help," I breathed. "I am in a serious mess right now. Really appreciate it."

"No worries at all. I've seen far worse morning-after situations. I'm pretty used to it by now."

Caught completely off guard, I couldn't even form a coherent response.

I just nodded, turned around, and bolted through the revolving glass doors.

It took a quick five-minute ride before the taxi pulled up to my own hotel.

The second I unlocked my suite, I headed straight for the bathroom and blasted the hot water.

The warm spray was pure bliss, melting away at least some of the tension and chaotic stress coiled deep inside my muscles.

Feeling slightly more human, I finally stepped up to the vanity mirror to wipe it clear.

My breath instantly hitched in my throat.

Dark, purplish marks were mapped out across my neck, down toward my collarbone and chest.

God damn it, he really did enjoy my company, didn't he? 

Well... you enjoyed it too, Maya. So deal with it. 

I let out a heavy sigh.

This was all Luisa's fault. 

Speaking of that crazy woman... I wondered how her night went.

I'll call her.

Slipping into a plush white robe, I walked out of the bathroom toward my cross-body bag. I unzipped and reached inside to grab my phone.

My stomach plummeted into a bottomless pit.

It wasn't there.

The only things inside were my slim leather cardholder and a half-empty pack of mints.

Fuck.

I left it in Devon’s room.

There was no freaking way I was walking back into that hotel room to retrieve it.

Except... literally my entire life was stored on that device.

All my high-profile business contacts, my priority clients, my mobile banking apps, my social media, my schedules—everything!

With zero options left, I marched straight down the hallway to Luisa’s suite.

I needed to dial my number and pray he picked up.

"Oh, good morning, Maya!" Luisa chirped the second she swung the door open. "How was your night? Spicy?"

She was already fully glammed up, wearing a gorgeous, breezy summer dress with flawless makeup.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked.

"Yup! I'm meeting up with my cousin, remember? Benedict? The one who had that massive crush on you back in college?"

"Oh, right. He lives out here now," I murmured, pressing two fingers to my throbbing temple.

"Hey, you look completely stressed out. What happened?"

"No—nothing. Luisa, I need a huge favor. Can I please use your phone? I need to call my line —I lost it."

"Lost it, or left it behind? Those are two very different scenarios, Maya," she purred.

"Fine! I left it behind! Happy ?!"

Luisa burst into a fit of giggles. "Now that sounds much more intriguing! What hotel did you guys end up at? How many rounds did you go? I bet it was a lot—look at you! Those bite marks are insanely huge!"

I frantically yanked the lapel of my robe higher up my neck to cover them.

"Luisa, please, just drop it and hand over the damn phone! All our VIP client info is on that device! I can’t just lose them over some stupid one-night stand—which, by the way, was entirely your fucking idea!"

"But you thoroughly enjoyed it, so that makes us even," she winked.

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my own brain.

God, this woman is truly unbelievable.

"Here, take it," Luisa laughed, handing over her unlocked phone.

"Call your mystery man. And honestly? You might as well ask him for round two while you're at it. That morning-after glow looks ridiculously good on you."

"Never," I snapped, snatching the phone from her grip.

It didn't even complete a full ring before a familiar, deep voice picked up on the other end.

I froze. I hesitated for a split second before I pulled the phone tight against my ear.

"Devon... It's me, Maya."

"Well, hello there, Maya. I'm glad you called. I was actually starting to get worried about you. Thought you might've been kidnapped or something—I was just about to dial the cops—"

"Devon, stop being so dramatic," I cut in, exasperated. "I snuck out and left. That’s all."

He let out a low, rich laugh. "I know. So... I take it you want your phone back?"

"Yes, please. It's... it's extremely important to me."

"Alright. Are you coming back over here to get it, or...?"

"At my place," I corrected immediately. "Here at my hotel. The Park Central."

"Hmm... smart. Always thinking ahead. What time works for you?"

"Um... can you bring it over right now? I'll just wait down in the lobby for you."

"Sure thing. Just let me hop in the shower real quick. Maybe thirty minutes- is that cool?"

"Perfect. Thank you."

"See you in a bit then. And hey... maybe after I drop it off, we could grab a bite? I could show you around the city, you know?"

"Devon, I only need my phone. That is literally it. Goodbye."