After a one night stand on New Year's Eve, Lia and Derrick don't expect to see one another again. After all, she's a Harvard PhD student and he's a professional hockey player for the Boston Knights - there's no way their paths should cross again.
E...
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"Derrick Wellsley?" Esme asked, making sure she'd heard right. "As in the man who plays for the Boston Knights? The tall, dark, and handsome winger that even I'd do if I was remotely interested in men?"
Unable to keep the heat from rising to my cheeks, I took a sip of my iced coffee as I nodded, also casting my eyes around the café to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.
It'd been three days since I'd woken up naked in Derrick's hotel room, early enough that the sun was barely high enough to chase away the darkness. But one ray had met my tired eyes as I rolled over to see the man beside me still dead asleep, his arms tucked underneath his pillow and only a sheet covering the lower half of his body. Knowing it was time to make my exit, I'd looked my fill one last time—how could I not—before slipping out of bed. I'd tiptoed around the room, careful not to wake him as I collected my clothes, threw them on, and used the pen and notepad the hotel provided to scribble a quick note to him before sneaking out.
Maybe it wasn't the most tactful, but I hadn't wanted to draw it out and make things awkward. A clean break had seemed best, especially after I realized that we were, in fact, not on the same flight home.
It was a great night, but that was all it was. One night. There was no use trying to make it into something more.
"Damn." Esme's eyes were wide as she shook her head in amazement. "I can't believe it."
"Honestly, I can't either," I admitted.
I'd had plenty of flashbacks over the last couple of days, almost all of them from the moments before one of the four orgasms Derrick had gifted me. It was honestly a lot for my brain to handle, not being one who frequented all-night sex marathons. Not with my past boyfriends, who were typically once-a-night type guys unless it was a special occasion, and certainly not with strangers. I'd only had one other one-night-stand in my life, during a girls' trip to the Caribbean a few years back, and it certainly hadn't been anything to write home about. But this—Derrick—had been fantastic in bed, and it was a bit of a bummer to realize I wouldn't be getting a repeat. Which was why my best friends were only now learning about it at our weekly Monday morning coffee date. It took time to process.
"And you're sure there's no chance for a repeat?"
I shook my head. "Considering we didn't exchange numbers and I snuck out while he was sleeping, I'm going to go with no."
"Well you're both in Boston, so never say never," Esme quipped. "This city is smaller than people think, so there's always a chance of running into him."
"But it's a pretty small chance," Harper added. She was the third member of our trio, and also happened to be Esme's girlfriend. With her arm slung over the back of Esme's chair, she'd remained silent as I recounted the majority of my sexcapade, but her facial features had certainly shown her surprise and amusement. "If I were in your shoes, I would be more worried about reconnecting with Miles."
