I roll onto my stomach and reach out for Rafe but that side of the bed has nothing but cold sheets.

He’s been gone for a while. And there’s no water running in the bathroom. Which means he left.

What the hell?

I push up into my elbows and search the room for any sign of a note or something. Nada.

He fucking ghosted me!

Jerk.

Why would he just take off?

Last night was amazing, for me anyway. I can’t remember the last time I came so much or so hard. I would have thought he would want to stay for a repeat performance. But maybe I just read too much into it. Maybe he needed to scratch the itch. Or maybe my dominance scared the shit out of him and he was just waiting for the right moment to sneak away.

That’s more likely considering my history with men. I had just hoped Rafe was different. He certainly didn’t seem to mind what I was doing last night, taking control and directing him. He seemed to enjoy it actually.

So what the hell happened?

He left you high and dry and smelling like sweaty, raunchy sex.

And now you’ll have to go in on Monday and pretend nothing happened.

Fucking awkward. Way to go, Andy.

At least he has no reason to be in my office now that CockGate is done and over with. It’s not like he will be wandering around the corporate offices. He spends most of his time down on his set and I spend mine in the boardroom.

Don’t let this affect your professional relationship with him.

It doesn’t matter that he hurt me. There were no promises made. I really can’t hold anything against him at this point. We had fun, and that’s all I can ask for, I guess.

That doesn’t really calm the ache in my chest, but I force myself out of bed and into the bathroom for a shower.

The scalding hot water soothes my sore muscles. Last night was a real fucking workout. By far the most cardio I’ve done in a long time. And I am feeling it everywhere, especially between my legs. But it’s a good ache. That deep one that reminds you of how amazing it was.

Too bad I won’t get a repeat.

A quick soaping and some shampoo and conditioner later, I climb from the shower and towel off before heading back to the bedroom to check my messages. I turned my ringer off last night, something I almost never do in case of an emergency, but I wanted my night with Rafe to be uninterrupted.

The sheer number of missed calls and messages tells me that may have been a mistake.

What the hell is going on?

The last three texts are from Penny.

9:15 am

CALL ME!

9:21 am

CALL ME!

9:23 am

CALL ME!

I dial her and sit back on the bed, bracing myself for whatever bad news I know she has for me.

“Andy! Jesus! Where the hell have you been? The shit is hitting the fan and you went dark! What the hell am I saying, I know exactly where you’ve been—”

“Penny, what’s going on? Why all the calls?”

She lets out a long sigh, and I can practically see her burying her face in her hand. “The A List posted pictures early this morning. Pictures of you and Rafe in a very compromising position. It looks like a hallway somewhere.”

Oh hell…

Visions of our dry-humping at the restaurant fill my head.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, Andy, it’s not good. All the celeb sites are running articles saying he hooked up with you to try to save his job and that’s the only reason you stood up for him and kept him on at the network.”

“Double shit.” I drop my head in my hand and scrub it down my face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

I drop back onto the bed that still smells like sex and wish I could just fall back into that blissful, post-sex sleep and forget about the impending A-bomb about to go off at the network.

“Has anyone from the board seen it yet?”

“Yes. Barry called two hours ago and requested an emergency board meeting this afternoon at two.”

I glance at the clock. I have three hours to get myself together and try to figure out a plan.

“Okay, thanks for the heads up. No statements to anyone. Got it?”

“I got it, Andy. I’ll see you soon.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My phone hitting the wall across the room makes a resounding thud but it doesn’t give me the satisfaction of shattering like I had intended. The desire to smash something overwhelms me, and the lamp on my nightstand ends up absorbing my rage. It shatters against the wood floor in a satisfying crack and pieces fly everywhere.

This is bad. This is career-ending kind of bad. And I walked right into it by taking Rafe into my bed.

Now I have to spend the next couple hours on the phone with the legal department trying to put out this fire, but I fear the flames have already engulfed me.