Page 63 of Revenge Puck
Thirty-four.
“Oh my god. What floor did he say again?”
I sneak a look at my phone to check our messages.
The penthouse.
Right.
Of course this is where he lives. Because whywouldn’tthe most intimidating, broody, mysterious professional athlete I’ve ever met live at the literal top of the city?
“Relax,” I whisper to myself.
My reflection stares back at me from the mirrored wall, and I touch the pearl barrette in my braided hair, second-guessing my entire “chill hang out” outfit.
Oversized cream sweatshirt: It’s slouchy and made of the softest material. My brain was screaming “touchable!” as I was getting dressed, but now I’m not so sure. The gray sweatpants sit low on my hips. They’re thin and comfortable, but underneath…
Lingerie.
Pink bra. Skimpy matching thong.
It’s the kind I wear to remind myself that I am, in fact, an adult woman.
Cookies in my hands.
Lingerie under my fleece.
The contrast feels ridiculous but empowering.
Another thing I’m second-guessing? The box of cookies are warm, fresh from the oven, baked before I left my apartment. The chocolate chip smell is sweet and delicious and suddenly feels so…juvenile.
I should’ve brought wine—something imported.
Why didn’t I?
Instead, I brought freaking baked goods, making it all the more glaringly obvious I’m not the type of woman he’s dated in the past.
UGH!
I shift the box in my arms, fingers tightening around the edges.
This entire evening was a bad idea. Why did I suggest it? What if Aaron thinks I’m boring? Or childish? Or…
Am I out of my damn mind?
Too late to turn back now.
A softdingechoes through the elevator when we reach the top floor as the doors quietly slide open.
Wait.
“Huh?”
I’m confused when the doors open because I’m not stepping into a hallway like I’m expecting, I’m stepping into a small lobby. Another room? I glance around and up and down at the brown marble floors and mahogany paneled walls.
There’s even a round center table with a vase of fresh flowers on it.
It looks and smells rich.
