Logan

172. Jack

*Jack POV*

I briefly hear the knock of the door before it opens, and I see a housekeeper staring in shock and she mumbles a sort of apology. I notice the way my hand is draped over Rose, and she's frozen.

As soon as the door closes she climbs over me, not a bad view, but then she's holding the clock, not me.

"Oh, my, shit, shit, shit," she pushes off of me with her hands and frantically reaches for her clothes, jamming the tights I carefully removed last night into her coat pocket. She's reaching for her skirt and pulling it up.

I should ask her to breakfast, "Come on, you don't have to run off. You can show me where to eat," I try to say.

Last time I had an intimate encounter with someone was back in Virginia, and she offered her place but I didn't follow her. I went home, I step one foot here and I feel like a different person.

I watch as she pulls on my shirt, before I can say anything she's tucking it into her skirt, "Listen, you don't understand. I am so entirely late for my first day at work. Jack I had a great time last night, but I don't have time for this."

I hand her the bra beside me and she simply tucks it into her other pocket, "Rose, come on, I'm sure if you call they'll understand."

"My name's not actually Rose, but listen Jack, this was," she takes a breath, "You were great." She puts on her hat and before I can chase after her, she's gone. I get up and open the door and look down the hallway, and there's no sign of her.

I look out the window and I realize my window is on the opposite side of the building. I can't even see if she made it okay.

I sit down and try to think of some kind of solution for this, but there isn't one.

"Way to go Jack, first one night stand in years." I sigh, and check to see if she left anything behind.

Nope, she's pretty meticulous, because this place looks like she was never here.

Damn.

*Natalie's POV*

For a high of 20 degrees, it's still cold on my ass as I book it down the street and get to the parking lot of the bar. I had pushed the auto starter from the window of the hotel stairs.

Jack.

I felt bad giving him the wrong name, but I am doubtful we're ever going to touch paths again. I am wincing with every step, I tried not to let him see the little bruises where he grabbed my thighs.

I manage to find a vest and a pencil skirt in my bag, but no shoes. At least the skirt hides everything. I tuck his shirt in as tight as possible after struggling to put my bra back on, this blue would've looked nice on him.

My moments of Jack shatter the moment I see my phone in the cup holder. I forgot.

I curse myself as I see there's no life to it, most likely drained. I mean, it was at 30% and I figured I'd have the time to charge it once I got home.

Home.

OH shit. I didn't go home last night, I didn't even call.

I didn't call Ripley, or Ember, or fucking anyone. I dig in the glove compartment and I connect the charger to the setup he has in the truck, and I turn it on to see one of Bohannon's secretaries calling me.

"I'm sorry, I had car trouble," I stammer.

"Save it. Bohannon wants coffee, and I'm covering for you. You owe me, he's in a mood this morning. Some big shot is supposed to be showing up."

I take a breath, "Okay, send me the coffee order and I'll be there in a few minutes." I pull out of the bar and head to one of the gas stations a few miles from the office.

It's going to be okay.