Chapter 3 Number

Chapter Three

“Nicholas… Nicholas.” Lana tapped lightly against his chest.

He barely stirred.

“Nicholas.”

A low groan escaped him as he slowly opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep. It was unlike him. Nicholas had lived with insomnia for years. Sleeping pills barely worked and massages never helped. Most nights, he survived on two or three hours of broken sleep before giving up completely.

Last night… he had slept without even realizing it.

“Say that again,” he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.

Lana tilted her head. “What?”

“My name.”

She smiled in confusion. “…Nicholas?”

Something about the way she said it made his chest tighten. He wasn’t used to hearing his name like that with no fear and no respect. He let out a slow breath before rubbing a hand over his face wondering if he was ever going to survive hearing her moan it.

“Well…” Lana sat up, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I have a race coming up. I’m sorry I have to leave so early.”

Nicholas stared at her. He was surprised she hadn’t slipped out while he was asleep. That was what usually happened.Or rather… that was what he usually did. Not that he had ever brought a woman back here.

Lana was the first.

Every woman before her had ended up in one of his hotels and never his home. He left before sunrise, making sure there was no awkward conversation the next morning. It was easier that way. He still didn’t know why he had brought her here instead of one of his hotels.

“You’re staring again,” Lana laughed.

Nicholas blinked before looking away. “I fear I do that a lot around you.”

“I noticed.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she climbed out of bed. “I really should go. I actually could’ve just left,” she admitted with a small laugh. “But that felt… rude.”

“It would’ve been.”

She laughed again.

For some reason, he liked hearing it.

Nicholas pushed himself up against the headboard, watching as she glanced around for her dress. It was neatly folded over the chair where she had left it the night before.

“You race professionally?” he asked.

Lana nodded as she picked it up. “Mostly underground.”

His brow lifted. “Underground?”

“My father would disown me if he knew how serious I am about it.”

“So he doesn’t know.”

“Oh, he knows I race.” She smiled to herself while slipping into her dress. “He just thinks I’ll eventually grow out of it.”

“And will you?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “No.”

There wasn’t the slightest hesitation in her answer. “I’ve been around race tracks for as long as I can remember. They’re loud, dangerous and completely chaotic.” She paused, fastening the zipper. “I love every second of it.”

Nicholas couldn’t help but whisper. “You sound proud.”

“I am.” She reached for her heels before sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on.“My father hates it. But the more he tries to stop me, the more I want to do it.”

Nicholas looked away. “You sound stubborn.”

“I am.” She stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress before grabbing her purse.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. It was strange. They had met less than twelve hours ago, yet the silence between them no longer felt uncomfortable.

Lana walked toward the bedroom door before stopping. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Nicholas looked at her. Was it? He wasn’t sure why that thought bothered him.

“I would love my driver to send you back safely.” he said.

She smiled. “You don’t have to worry. My secretary already brought a car.”

Nicholas hesitated for some seconds before whispering, “drive safely.”

“I always do.”

Before Lana could turn the doorknob, Nicholas called out. “Lana.”

She stopped and looked back. “Hm?”

Nicholas hesitated. He wasn’t the type to ask women for their numbers. Usually, he didn’t care enough to. This time was different.

“Can I… get your number?”

Lana stared at him for a second before a smile spread across her face. “Sure.”

Nicholas reached for his phone on the bedside table, only for the screen to remain black. It was dead… Of course. He pressed the power button again but nothing.

Lana couldn’t help laughing. “Seriously?”

“It died.”

“You should charge it more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall before shaking her head. “I really don’t have time for this.”

Without another word, she walked back toward him. Nicholas watched as she gently took his hand before turning his palm upward. She picked up the pen lying on the bedside table and began writing across his palm. Her handwriting tickled his skin, but he never once looked away from her face. She was standing so close that could perceive her hair.

“There.” She capped the pen before placing it back on the table. “That’s my number.”

Nicholas lowered his gaze to his palm. A neat line of numbers stared back at him. Truthfully… he never needed to ask. If he wanted Lana’s number, he could’ve gotten it within minutes. He already knew far more about Lana Brown than he ever should. Asking her directly wasn’t about getting her number. It was… courtesy.

Lana slung her purse over her shoulder before taking a few steps toward the door again.

“Don’t wash your hand until you save it.”

Nicholas looked down at the ink on his palm. “I won’t.”

She smiled. “Good.”

The bedroom door clicked shut behind her. Nicholas remained exactly where he was, his eyes fixed on the numbers written across his hand and with that he wiped it off because he really didn’t need it.