Page 143 of Double Fault

I’m alone, but there’s a note propped up on his pillow.

Be back soon.

—N

I set the piece of hotel stationary down, then ease out of bed and slip into the hotel robe as I pad to the bathroom.

“Holy shit,” I mutter as I get a good look at myself in the mirror.

A shower is a must. I look like I’ve been dragged to the depths of hell and back again.

I brush my teeth while the water warms, then step into the spray. I hadn’t planned on washing my hair today, but since I didn’t do any proper hair care last night, it’s got a life of its own.

Noah still hasn’t returned when I turn the shower off. I take my time adding product to my hair and going through my morning skincare routine. When I’m dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt and he still hasn’t returned, I start to worry.

I’ve settled on the bed and have just turned the TV on when the door beeps. A moment later, a crinkling sound signals that Noah has entered the room.

“You okay over there?” I joke.

He comes around the corner wearing a proud smile and pulling to-go boxes out of the bag. “I picked up breakfast.”

“It smells delicious.” I sit up straighter, and as if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “I’m starving.”

He slides into bed beside me with both boxes and sets them between us, then leans in and brushes his lips against my neck. “You smell good.”

With a hand pressed to his chest, I lean away from him. “Stay away from me, you demon dick god. I’m too sore for you to be up on me like that.”

He falls back onto the bed, clutching his stomach and shaking with laughter. “Demon dick. Wow.” He rights himself and wipes a stray tear of laughter from beneath his eye. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never that before.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” I open one to-go box and pop a grape into my mouth.

“Too late. I want that printed on a shirt and broadcast to the world.”

“I hate you,” I grumble as I fight a smile.

“Sure weren’t saying that last night, were you?”

“Noah,” I groan, head tipped back and gripping my knees to keep from sprawling out on the mattress. This man will be the end of me. “Let me eat my breakfast in peace.”

With a shrug, he pulls a fork from its plastic packaging and spears a bite of eggs. “You’re the one who called me a demon dick god.”

I did, but that’s beside the point. With a cleansing breath, I straighten and focus on my breakfast. “What are your plans today?”

“I have a few more interviews and then we’ll fly to Paris.”

My stomach dips. For the Olympics.

This man is competing in the fuckingOlympics. He’s talented. I’ve known that from early on, yet it didn’t occur to me until a few weeks ago that this was even a possibility.

“Paris is going to be insane, isn’t it?”

He snorts. “You have no idea.”

“Have you played in the Olympics before?”

With a water bottle halfway to his lips, he gives me the most epic side-eye I’ve ever seen. “You mean to tell me you’ve never Googled me?”

My cheeks heat. “I mean… maybe once or twice, but it’s not like I memorized your bio.”

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