Page 32 of Rich Girl
She gets out of bed too, looking around in confusion as we both try to locate my jeans. I’m pretty sure my cell phone is in the back pocket.
“Found them,” she yells in victory when she pulls up the comforter which landed on the floor at some point during the night.
I walk over to the other side of the bed where she’s standing, giving her a quick kiss before bending over to grab my jeans. My black boxer briefs are inside of them from when I took everything off at the same time. I grab them and slide them up my legs before turning and placing another kiss on her perfectly kissable mouth.
The look of shock on her face makes me laugh, but my laughter dies down when I notice all the missed calls on my phone.
“I’m really sorry, Hayden,” I mutter in the corner of my mouth without looking at her. “I need to make a couple of calls.”
“No problem at all. Would you like to use the study?”
My eyebrows about get lost into my hairline when I turn to look at her, surprise obvious on my face.
“For privacy,” she explains, like it is the most normal thing in the world.
I glance around us. “What study?”
“The room next door,” she shrugs.
I think she forgot the story she fed me yesterday.
“Isn’t that a second bedroom? Your friend’s bedroom,” I remind her when she doesn’t seem to be grasping what I’m saying.
“Oh.” Realization dawns on her. “Yes, I misspoke. How about you do your business in here, and I’ll step out there?”
I smile and shake my head at her, amusement distracting me for a minute from the daily life.
“You’re good, babe. I don’t care if you listen in.”
With that, I dial the first number I missed a call from.
“Ray, finally,” one of my main guys at the shop answers. “I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday morning, but there was an accident on the other side of the city. It’s a pile up,” he elaborates. “They called for five tow trucks. We need a driver badly if you can. I knocked on your door upstairs, but…”
“Fuck, I’m not home,” I tell him. “I’m in the city actually.”
I look around the room, amazed at the mess we made. The sheets are rumpled in the middle of the bed, only one pillow on it, which explains why Hayden used me as her own personal human cushion, and the comforter is on the floor.
“Let me make some calls.”
I hang up and try to come up with a plan. Without thinking, I just sit on the edge of the bed and get to making phone calls. I reach out to all my contacts in the city. Everyone is busy or called to other jobs, but I finally find one who can loan me a tow truck but no driver.
“Fuck!” I fall on my back on the soft mattress and stare at the ceiling, brainstorming and coming up empty.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Hayden’s voice calls from the entrance to the en-suite bathroom. I notice that she tamed her hair and her face looks clean and fresh, not a stitch of makeup on. She is wearing expensive looking jeans that are professionally ripped and a silky top that looks damn hot on her.
“Can you give me a ride?”
Our eyes connect, and I know her mind went to everything that happened between us last night when she rode me like a pro, because mine did.
“I-I don’t have a car…”
I stand up, pick my jeans off the floor and pull them on. I notice the shirt she slept in is now hanging on the chair in the corner. I walk there to grab it. As I button it up, I think of options.
“Do you have a valid driver’s license?”
“I do,” she assures me. “But I don’t drive a lot.”
“As long as you know how to put a car into gear and stay straight in between the lines, I’m good with that.”
