Page 17 of Silver Fox Puck

Chapter 3 – Grant

The glass doors whisper shut behind her.

I don’t move. Not right away.

I just stand there, hands tucked in my pockets, watching as the taillights of her cab fade into the early morning haze.

It should feel like any other morning. Another night. Another clean break.

Instead, the early morning silence of the lobby settles over me like a weight. I exhale, slow and steady, forcing the tightness in my chest to loosen.

She’s gone. That was the deal. No strings. No expectations. So why the hell am I still standing here?

The receptionist at the front desk barely looks up as I turn away. The hotel staff moves quietly in the background, starting their shifts, prepping coffee stations, arranging newspapers for businessmen who will be waking up soon.

Business as usual. Like last night didn’t just knock something loose in me.

I push the thought aside, moving toward the elevator, willing my mind to shift gears. But as I press the button, waiting for the doors to slide open, I still feel her.

The teasing smirk. The heat of her body beneath mine. The way she looked at me when she whispered, No takebacks, Silver Fox.

My jaw tightens. It was just a night of fun. I need to leave it at that. The elevator dings. I step inside, exhaling sharply as the doors close.

By the time I reach my floor, I’ve convinced myself I won’t think about her again.

I should have known better.

The second my hotel room door closes behind me, the silence feels wrong. I should feel relief. This is what I wanted—what her and I both wanted.

But my chest is still tight, my jaw locked, my pulse annoyingly uneven as I stand there, staring at the empty space where she was just minutes ago.

I run a hand over my face, dragging in a slow breath.

Let it go. Move the fuck on.

I move toward the bed, the sheets still rumpled from where she slept, from where her body fit so damn perfectly against mine. The scent of her skin lingers—warm, feminine, something sweet I can’t name but sure as hell can’t ignore.

I need to clear my head.

Stripping down, I step into the shower, letting the hot water pound against my shoulders, washing away the last remnants of her touch.

By the time I turn off the water and grab a towel, I feel like I’ve reset.

Almost.

I pull on a clean pair of boxer briefs and pants, towel-drying my hair as I walk toward my suitcase. That’s when I see it. A small flash of silver. Something out of place.

I frown, stepping closer.

Sitting on the edge of the nightstand is a pair of earrings. Hers. I stare at them, my fingers hovering over the delicate silver hoops she must’ve pulled off at some point last night.

She was so damn confident when she walked away, barely looking back.

And yet… she left something behind. It shouldn’t mean anything. It was just an accident. An oversight. Nothing personal. And yet, it pisses me off that it does mean something.

I exhale sharply, snatching them up, my grip tight around the cool metal.

I don’t hold on to things that aren’t mine. I don’t let people linger. I don’t let moments last longer than they should.

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