Chapter 21

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           A/N: My favorite chapter to write. Moms of sons should especially enjoy it. 

 Alexios heard the ping of the elevator as he reached the door of his suite. Looking down the long hallway, he realized that Syd would be long gone by the time he got there. Swearing, he strode back into his room and grabbed up his cell, ignoring the tremble of his hand as he speed-dialed her. It went straight to voice mail. Of course, it would. Impatiently waiting through her message, he began to speak before the beep.

"Damn it, Syd, pick up your phone. We need to talk about this. You just don't drop a bomb like that and run away. Let's talk like adults." He winced at that last part. He sounded like that entitled S.O.B. Orrin was always accusing him of being. "I mean, well... just call me." Great, now he was an imperious S.O.B. He stabbed the end call button and shoved his phone in his trouser pocket. Then he paced to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the ever-busy Las Vegas Boulevard, as if he could find Sydney in that far-below tangle of metal and humanity.

Should he run after her, even though her head start guaranteed he wouldn't catch up? He knew where she was going, after all. He pulled his phone back out and searched his contacts for her house phone. But maybe she'd go to Jimmy's instead. Should he call her dad, alert him to what had just transpired? Though if he was a dad, he reasoned, whose side would he take? Alexios dropped his phone back into his pocket on another growl and spun from the glittering sight before him. And paused in the middle of the room.

He wiped a still-unsteady hand down his face. Sydney had said she loved him. Where the hell had that come from? How did she even know she was in love? Because he was her first sexual partner? He'd heard women romanticized their first time, but Syd seemed too...grounded for that. Although, with her inexperience, she could be basing her belief she was in love on the incredible sex they had, since whenever they came together it was extraordinary. He had enough knowledge between the two of them to know that their lovemaking went beyond anything he'd ever experienced.

Lovemaking. When was the last time he'd called sex that? He blinked at the thought. Yanked his phone out of his pocket and stared at it with ferocity, as if he could make her call and interrupt the bend his thoughts were taking. But it remained quiet. He threw it on the sofa with a curse and stalked into the bedroom. And came up short in the doorway from the images that assailed him.

Sydney, in his bed, naked and glowing from their nonstop nightly lovemaking. Yes, lovemaking, damn it. Even he could tell the difference between sex and making love. But did that mean they were in love? Or did it just tell him he'd gotten sappy from the fact she'd given him her virginity? After all, it had been quite a gift, one that still had the power to arouse him with just the memory.

Shooting a glare at the neatly made bed, since they hadn't gotten to it before she'd stormed off, Alexios detoured into the bathroom to splash water on his face. As he did so, he glowered at his reflection and tried not to inhale Sydney's lingering fragrance in the space. Snatching up the hand towel, he scrubbed his features dry before throwing it on the counter and exiting.

Damn it all to hell. Women always had to put a name to their emotions. He knew their relationship was different than his others. He'd been enjoying that distinction until Sydney went and spoiled it with an ultimatum of sorts.

He threw himself onto the couch next to his phone, refusing to glance at the still silent item. Women. They couldn't leave well enough alone. Everything always had to be about love with them. Love and hearts and frigging unicorns, no matter what their age. And their imaginings forced them to push a man out of his comfort zone. Shit.

Slouching farther into the sofa's cushions, Alexios picked up his phone and stared at its blank screen before speed dialing Sydney once more. Voice mail, again.

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