Page 11 of Riding the High

“Are you bringing anyone?” he asks hopefully.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes.

“Hmm, I see. See you at seven sharp. Be punctual.”

“Yes sir,” I mock before hanging up. I flop back on the couch and groan.

“Don’t you have your own room?” I ask Cole as he stretches.

“I tried to leave but you were sleep-talking.” He grins. “Begged me to stay.”

I kick him harder and put my hand to my ear. “What’s that now? You have to go? Such a shame,” I say, standing and grabbing my toiletries.

Cole chuckles and sits up, working the knots out of his neck from the uncomfortable couch. “That’s it, use me and kick me to the curb before I’ve even had a morning coffee.” He goes to adjust himself and, even though I try not to look, it’s hard not to.

“You know, I think that’s what she said.” I wink.

Cole laughs in spite of himself.

“Fuck, she’s staying at this hotel,” he remembers. “I can’t even go downstairs for breakfast. I was supposed to leave early this morning.”

“Not a chance I’m feeling sorry for you and your first-world fuckboy problems.” I roll my eyes. “And you’re going to have to find someone else to share a couch with when we’re in Vegas next weekend. The family might think it’s weird if you sneak out of mine and Olivia’s room in the morning. And I’m also not about to explain your need to hang out with me all the time to CeCe right now when she’s being a bit of a bridezilla,” I say without looking at him as I rummage through my overnight bag for my yoga pants.

Cole laughs from behind me. “Guess I’ll just have to findsome other grumpy, non-morning person to hang out with while we’re there.”

“Good, and your knees can dig into someone else’s back all night.”

I gather all my items into a pile in my arms, balancing my clean socks between my chin and my toiletries because I’m a one-trip bitch.

“Don’t worry about CeCe. She’s too involved in her own life to notice anything we do.” He points at me. “And don’t act like you don’t enjoy my company.”

He stands and tosses his hoodie back on over his t-shirt. When his head pops through, he’s wearing a big, dimpled smile.

“I feel the way you snuggle your feet into my side when you’re falling asleep and snoring like a little freight train.”

I narrow my eyes at him and decide to give up my stack of perfectly gathered items in exchange for tossing my socks at him. They hit him square in the face.So worth it.

“I cannot be held accountable for any snuggling I do when I’m unconscious. And I do not snore,” I say heatedly. “Now, I need a shower and a coffee. Time to go pursue your next victim. Toodles, Law Daddy.”

I gather up my items again and head to get ready without so much as a glance back.

“You definitely snore!” I hear him retort as I shut the bathroom door behind me. I take my time in the shower, mulling over the impending dinner with my parents, particularly my father. He hasn’t invited me because he wants to spend time together. He wants to go over his primary schedule and anything he might “need” from me.

I know my father was hoping I’d bring David Black with me. He’s the son of one of his colleagues, a lawyer just like him, and for some reason when he introduced him to me last month, he thought we were a match made in heaven. David was niceenough—tall, dark and handsome. But also a little arrogant and self-absorbed. The entire dinner my parents awkwardly arranged was spent listening to him tell me how many cases he’d won and how he was going to make partner soon. Not my type, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that my parents think he is the kind to “settle down” with. The last guy they loved like that was the son of my dad’s newly appointed political adviser …

Brock. The good guy. The guy that seemed as though he’d do anything for me. My parents adored him and I even kind of fell for him, thought he might have been the one. Until he broke my heart. I found him in the shower of my dorm with a girl from down the hall. It had been going on for weeks while I busted my ass at my placement study. Ever since then, I’ve only casually dated now and then. I don’t really see the point until Mr. Sweep Me Off My Feet comes around. Aside from the obvious, and I have enough vibrators for that.

When I finish in the shower, Cole is gone, probably already checked out to get back to Mabel.

I’m just packing everything into my suitcase when there’s a knock at my door as my phone buzzes on the bedside table simultaneously.

I go for the door first.

“Good afternoon.” A concierge flashes me a smile as I swing open the door.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything—”

“This is from Mr. Ashby,” he cuts in, pushing the cart into my room.

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