Juice: An Alpha Male Billionaire Romance - Part 5 (Juice: The Series) by Victoria Starke

 
    Bronwyn
    “Everett,” I murmur, pulling me out of a light dreaming
sleep. Early morning sun fills the bedroom with a soft, yellow light, and I grab
for a spare pillow to hide my face. It’s too early. I feel hot and kick a leg
out over the covers. Searching my arm around, I pat the bed, feeling for him to
my left, but I find nothing. I feel alone.
    “Everett?” I call again, this time intentionally, and hope
he’s somewhere close. I only hear an echo. No answer. This apartment suddenly
feels less like home when he’s not here.
    I realize I’ve passed out naked from last night and enjoy
the vivid memory of him inside me, looking into the master bathroom’s shower.
    Well, if he’s not here, I’m sure he won’t mind if I borrow a
shirt and boxers?
    I tip toe into the enormous walk-in closet. It’s clearly a
custom-built accessory with under-lit shelves to the ceiling, a center island
chest of drawers, and a plush bench seat. I could live here. With my clothes,
of course.
    My eyes creep around the space. I wonder if he has a camera
built-in? I won’t be long. The real prize is the discarded t-shirt. I grab it
and pull it to my face, inhaling a mixture of Everett’s of masculine deodorant
and pheromones. I pull the shirt over me and add a fresh pair of boxer shorts
with a funny print. I think I’ll wear this today. Walking out I catch myself in
the full length mirror, makeup smeared but smiling like a fool.
    I peer out of the bedroom, again timidly. “Everett?” I call.
“Anyone here?” I’m talking to myself. But there’s a note on the countertop.
    Out for a long run.
Eat something. Back soon. -E
    His hand writing is rushed and scribbled on a torn piece of
graph paper. But it’s first thing he’s handwritten for me. I feel like a
teenager, heart brimming while holding this scrap in my hands. I’m falling hard.
    Berries and other fruits sit in a bowl on the countertop. I
really just need a strong cup of coffee, and happily I spot a Nespresso machine
with a stack of colorful pods sitting alongside. I make a double.
    The caffeine is beginning to kick in as I squint out at the
city’s park and buildings from Everett’s high rise view. Nope, this view still
isn’t getting old. I think I’m even getting my legs under me, even at this
height. Though the vantage is decoration enough, I turn around in a full circle,
looking over the medium gray interior of the place, and remark to myself on the
minimalist-chic style. That, or he’s just moved in. Either way, I need another
turn at that amazing shower.
    I scamper into the master bath, close the door, and turn the
water to near searing hot. I know magazines tell you it’s not good for your
skin, but hot water just feels so damn good. I soak and lean my hair into the
waterfall. It seems with the two of us in here last night, I must not have had
the chance to properly wash my hair. Last night’s adventure keeping replaying
in my mind as I lather the lemon and sage scented shampoo into my hair. I fall
into a light hypnosis, standing and running the water over my head, cascading
in sheets over my face.
    Everett
    It’s quiet today. Everyone must be out of town. The
Hamptons, the Shore, Miami.
    But I’m right where I want to be, pounding the park
pavement.
    MOMA is in the rearview, I’m now cruising past the zoo, and
closing on the five mile mark. Pace is steady at a six minutes.
    This is the best shape I’ve been since high school. For a
moment I hold a deep breath of cool morning air in my lungs.
    I quicken my pace into a full sprint, ripping through the
gentle asphalt curves, as the Plaza begins to peak out under the tree cover. I
slow to a jog and take a few deep gulps of air.
    I love this city.
    I love the girl waiting for me.
    I’m coming home for you.
    Bronwyn
    “Hello” a voice calls from inside the room, causing my heart
skips a beat.
    “Um, who is it?” I call back meekly.
    “It’s me, silly,” he says, peeking into the bathroom. “Mind
if