The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(66)

They must be going out for lunch.

“Seriously, where do we find men like the Miles brothers?” Ava sighs.

“Right?” I watch the street they disappeared up.

“One of these days,” she whispers. “One of these days.”

I wonder if Jameson had a long and boozy lunch, and more importantly, did he bring back cake? It’s getting to that time of the day where my mind is fixed firmly on something sweet to have with my coffee. “Hi, Emily, have you got your stories we are running with tomorrow?” Hayden asks.

I smile up at him. Hmm. “I didn’t think they were due until four, and it’s only three.”

Hayden is the person who I turn the news in to, and he then passes them on to the next stage.

“I know, but I like to get a head start,” he says casually.

Head start on what? Is he the one selling the stories? Is that why he wants them early, so he can get them off to the highest bidder?

“They’re not ready yet.”

“Okay, cool.” He smiles. “Email them over as soon as you get them sorted.”

My eyes hold his. “Sure.”

I watch him walk back to his desk and fall into conversation with the person who sits next to him.

I’m watching you, asshole.

I look around the office with renewed determination. I’m watching all of you. Every single one.

It’s just now four, and I email Jameson.

Hi,

I booked you a massage with a physio. They will be at your place at seven. Hope this suits your plans.

FB

xoxoxo

A few moments later, a reply bounces back.

Dear FB,

Please define “they.”





J


xx

I roll my eyes. I knew this was coming.

Dear Mr. J,

They . . . aka . . . male physiotherapist professional, nonsexual-act-performing masseuse. Specializes in back treatment and hella expensive.





FB


xoxoxo

I wait for a few moments, and a reply bounces back.

FB,

Fine, can you let them into my apartment, please? I’ll have Alan pick you up at seven. I’ll meet you there, maybe fifteen minutes late.





J


xox

I smile broadly as hope blooms in my chest. I write back.

Are we seeing each other tonight?

He replies.

Yes. I’m away for the week next week, therefore, I’m taking next week’s meetings too. See you tonight.

Jay

xox

I probably should play a little hard to get and pretend I have something going on . . . but I just don’t have it in me. I email back.

Jay,

I’ll make dinner. What do you want?





FB


xoxo

A reply bounces back.

The only thing I want to eat tonight is you. Now get back to work before I bend you over your desk.

xox

I smirk as I feel my face flush, and I click out of my emails. He is undoubtedly the hottest man on earth.

I feel like a master chef in Jameson’s fancy kitchen. It’s just now seven, and I turn the gas on and lift the pot of water onto it. I like having dinner ready for him. I know he’s never had it, so it feels special to do it for him.

The security buzzer sounds, and I look around. Shit. Where’s the intercom?

I see a phone and screen near the front door. I pick up. “Hello?”

“Hello, this is Matthew, the physio. I’m here for a massage therapy session.”

I smile as I stare at the screen. Matthew is good looking, has the whole Scandinavian thing going on. “Come up.” I push the button and release the door for him, and he disappears into the elevator. Moments later, he knocks on the door. “Hello.” I smile.

“Hi.” He walks in wearing a white uniform and carrying a fold-up massage bed.

Wow . . . Matthew is really hot. Maybe I should get a massage too?

“Where do you want me to set up?” he asks.

“Umm.” I frown as I look around. Where do I want him to set up? “Just hang on a minute.” I walk down the hallway and peer into the rooms. There’s a room at the end with a treadmill and weight bench. “Just down here at the end, please.”

He saunters down with his sexy walk and begins to set up. Suddenly I’m reminded that this is the exact scenario that Jameson had with Chloe . . . only they really did have sex. My stomach rolls at the thought.

Stop it.

“I’ll be out here if you need me.” I walk nervously back out into the kitchen. Shit, is it safe to leave him down there alone? Should I be watching him or something?

I peer back down the hall to make sure he doesn’t come out of that room and snoop around. Oh, damn it, what’s the protocol with strangers in a place like this?

The front door clicks, and Jameson comes into view. “Hello,” he says flatly.

I smile. “Hi.” I wrap my arms around him. “How’s my man?”

“Fine.” He brushes past me in a rush.

Oh. I frown. That’s not the greeting I was hoping for.

“Is he here yet?”

“Yes, in the room down at the end.”

“I’ll just have a quick shower. Can you tell him I’ll be five minutes, please?”