Page 3 of False Start

Fully dressed now, I shrug and start towards the door.

"Fine by me."

Cory follows me down the hallway into the living room. We were clearly in here, too. One of the end table lamps is on its side, the contents of my purse are spilled out onto the floor, and there's a condom wrapper on the coffee table.Jesus, how many times did we fuck?Leave it to me to have what looks like Olympic-level sex with one of the worst humans I know.

"So…that's it, then?" he asks, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yes…Is this your first one-night stand or something?" I know it's not. Adam may have changed his ways for Maya, but all five of the Park brothers give off serious heartbreaker vibes.Marriage-minded women need not apply.

Cory shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Hardly, but they're usually not still here in the morning, so I'm in unfamiliar territory."

I bite my lip to stifle a laugh.

"Well, that's one thing we have in common." I bend to shove everything back in my purse and feel his eyes on my ass.Eat your heart out, buddy."I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

"You sure you don't want to check the kitchen, too?" he asks from over my shoulder. I turn to see him looking uncomfortable. "It looks like we…got around last night. I'd hate for you to leave something behind."

I move to do a quick once over.

"Good idea."

The counter is clear and there aren't even any dishes in the sink. It looks untouched.

"The kitchen was spared, thank God."

I sling my purse over my shoulder and walk towards the front door. I've got a hot date with Advil and a bacon egg and cheese for this monster hangover.

Cory unlocks and opens the door for me, then leans forward and awkwardly pats me on the back.Wow.This is exactly why I always make my getaway when the guy's asleep.

"It's been real," I say with a grin. "See you around."

I leave before he can draw this out any further, and sigh in relief when I exit the building to find we're near Columbus Circle. Thank God I don't have to schlep home all the way from Brooklyn or something. 125th Street is just a few train stops away.

Food and a hot shower should be enough to put last night in my rearview. With any luck, it'll wash away last night's mistakes, too.

Chapter three

Cory

Huh.UsuallyI'mtheone rushing them out the door, calling them an Uber, intentionally hogging the covers so they'll take the hint and leave. I've never had a woman practically sprint from my apartment after a night together and it feels…weird. I might not remember last night, but we must've clicked if we had sex multiple times, and in multiplerooms. She didn't even want to leave her number.

I head to the shower to rinse off the sting of…what? Embarrassment? I've got nothing to be embarrassed about. Neither of us remembered, and she's right that the two of us hooking up would be a recipe for disaster. But a 6am brush-off is hardly a stellar Yelp review…

I throw on a t-shirt, a pair of athletic shorts, and my black Under Armour kicks, hoping a good hard sweat and some fresh air will clear the uneasiness. This late in the day, I don't have the path to myself, weaving between moms with strollers, tourists snapping pics of the Bethesda Terrace and Fountain, and kids on their way to the soccer fields.

But as I pass the Ladies Pavillion on my jog, I'm still thinking about it. Denise is clearly not my biggest fan, and I'm used to that, but usually people don't like me because of something I did, not because of something I did to someone else. Maybe there's a "bros before hos" for women. Like…"chicks before dicks", maybe?

I check my watch and let out a frustrated grunt. I'm really feeling yesterday's excess. Most days, I run an eight-minute mile; today I'll be lucky if I hit twice that. I dig into my reserves for a burst of speed, but my hamstrings cry out in protest. Last night's sex must have been quite athletic.

Maybe it's bugging me because she's so cute? I can't get the thought of her dark nipples out of my head; I really wish I could remember sucking them, or maybe grabbing a handful of that luscious ass. She's a lot thicker than my usual partners, unless you count Bethany—

Nope.No.I willnotthink about Bethany. I push myself harder, like I can literally outrun her memory. If only it were that simple.

Back at my building, I'm drenched in sweat that smells a lot like Black Label and panting like I ran a marathon instead of just a few miles. I'm a stark contrast to the elegant marble and leather of the lobby, complete with an ornate blown glass chandelier by Dale Chihuly. I'm not big into art,—that's more of my oldest brother, Henry's thing—but even I had to stop and ask Mike at the front desk who made the piece.

Mike waves as I pass—he's hailed cabs for many of my lady friends and even had to keep a few from sneaking up to my apartment. I doubt he'll have that trouble with Denise…She couldn't get out of here fast enough.

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