thoughts.
As she became more aware of the here and now, Isabel could tell that Jeremy was also near his peak. His breaths were labored, but light, just like they had been the first time. Puffs of air that seemed to go in one direction. Just in. And further in. In one sudden movement, he jerked, then his torso froze in place, his hips flush against her bottom. She wrapped her legs around him tightly and raked her fingers up and down his strong back, feeling every defined muscle. As her own pleasure continued to swirl around her, she blazed a trail of hot kisses against his neck, wanting to show her appreciation. Jeremy was magnificent. Absolutely perfect.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “The condom. It broke.”
Just like that, the spell was broken. “Did you?” she asked. Had she really just been thinking that this was perfect? She should have known better. That did not exist. Not for her, at least.
“Did I come? Yes.” He rolled off of her and jumped up from the bed, rushing off to the bathroom.
Isabel closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Great. So much for her fun with handsome Jeremy. So much for the idea of a third time. Or a fourth. This was about to come to a quick end, she guessed, at least judging by how quickly he had retreated to the bathroom.
He returned a few seconds later with a towel wrapped around his waist. He paced, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry.”
Her instinct was to make him feel better, even when she was feeling worse by the second. “Not your fault. It happens.”
Awkward silence followed, and she knew that Jeremy was planning his escape. He had his lips pressed tightly together like he couldn’t figure out what to do next. Part of her was tempted to point to the door and save them both the embarrassment. Part of her wanted to put on her sleep mask and convince herself this part wasn’t happening. They’d had such an amazing night together. It didn’t seem fair that it should end like this. But that was life. Nothing to do about it but move on.
He sat on the edge of the bed, but it was about as far away from her as possible. The divide between them now felt like it was a mile wide. In some ways, she felt like she knew him even less now than she had when they’d first met downstairs. “I don’t even know your last name. What if I just got you pregnant?”
Isabel knew that uncertain edge in his voice. She’d heard it before. One time in particular had been so painful she thought she might never recover. That had been over an actual pregnancy, not merely a fear of obligation. Her initial impression of Jeremy had been correct. He came off as smooth for a reason—he was all about the pursuit, not about sticking around. And that was fine. No harm, no foul. They hardly knew each other. It was understandable that he might feel trapped. It was now her job to let him off the hook, if only to allow herself to get on her with her life.
“If it makes you feel any better, my name is Isabel Blackwell.”
He glanced over at her. “Oh. Okay. My last name is Sharp.”
Isabel grabbed the sheet and pulled it up over herself. Exchanging last names had done nothing to make this situation more comfortable. If anything, it made it so much more obvious that she wasn’t built for one-night stands.
Isabel scooted up in bed until her back was against the headboard. “Look. Don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I keep track of my cycle pretty closely. I don’t think there’s any chance we’re in trouble.” She’d undersold that part by quite a bit. She’d been methodically tracking her periods for the last several years. If she managed to meet Mr. Right, she wanted to be able to try for a baby as soon as possible. Isabel prepared for everything in life. It was the best way to avoid surprises and the perfect distraction when you felt like the things you wanted weren’t happening fast enough.
“Okay. Well, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay...” His voice trailed off, leaving Isabel to make the final declaration.
“No, Jeremy. It’s okay. I think it’s probably best at this point if you head home. I have a big meeting tomorrow and I’m sure you have things you need to do tomorrow. We probably both need a good night’s sleep.”
He nodded. “Sure. Yes. Of course.” He got up from the bed and began collecting his clothes from their various locales across the room. He let go of the towel so he could step into his boxers, giving Isabel one last parting glance at perfect Jeremy. Damn. If only this hadn’t started so absurdly. If only it hadn’t ended so uncomfortably. He might have been a guy she would have wanted around for a while.
Wrapped up in the sheet, she climbed out of bed and padded past him to the bathroom. She quietly closed the door behind her and sucked in several deep breaths. You’re okay. Moving to New York was supposed to be her new beginning, especially with men and the notion of having a personal life. So she’d had a false start. Jeremy was ultimately a nice guy. He was handsome, sexy and kind. They’d had some rotten luck, but that happened every day. Isabel needed to get past the idea that her fresh start was ruined by one mishap.
She stepped to the sink, took a sip of water from the glass on the vanity and prepared herself to walk back out into the room. “Worse things have happened.” When she opened the bathroom door, Jeremy was standing right outside, suit on but no tie. His briefcase was in his hand. For a moment, she wondered what he did for work. Probably a Wall Street guy. He seemed the type—cocky, good-looking, sure of himself. She wouldn’t ask him now.
“Okay, then. You off?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes. Thank you for tonight. It was really nice. I swear.”
She had to laugh at what a sad and funny situation she’d gotten herself into. She stepped closer to him and stole one last kiss. “Jeremy. You were amazing. And I hope you have a lifetime of making money and finding fun wherever you go.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t a full-throttle grin, not the smile that had first sparked her curiosity or the chemistry between them. “I hope you find everything you’re looking for, Isabel Blackwell.”
With that, she opened the door and watched as he walked down the hall to the elevator. She hoped Jeremy was right. She didn’t want to go too much longer waiting.
Jeremy finally gave in at 4:37 a.m. His night’s sleep was a lost cause. He climbed out from under his down comforter and sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and ran a hand through his hair. A deep sigh escaped his lips, but he could have sworn he heard a word in it. A name. Isabel. What the hell was that? What the hell happened?
He’d never had a woman work her way into his psyche in such a short amount of time—mere hours. Sure, part of it was the fact that he was still stinging from the way he’d had to exit her room, and her life. When they’d been down at the bar flirting and she offered the invitation to come upstairs, his plan had been to leave her happy and exhausted, positively aglow from sex. Instead, he’d departed while she was bundled up in a sheet like a hastily wrapped gift, granting him a dispassionate kiss goodbye and leaving him with the crushing sense that they would always have unfinished business.
Another sigh came. He was going to have to stop letting this get to him.
With a long day of client meetings ahead, he decided to get in a workout. He sometimes managed to sneak away at lunch and go to the Sharp and Sharp gym, but that
