NICOLE
I wake up, and the other side of the bed is cold and empty. I'm not surprised. He's always gone before me.
I push back the covers and pad out into the living room, my afro a messy cloud around my head. I'm still rubbing the sleep from my eyes when the private elevator dings softly.
The doors slide open, and Kenji walks out. He's just back from a workout. A fine sheen of sweat covers his skin, making his muscles look like they've been carved from polished marble.
He has a white towel draped over his broad shoulder. His black hair is damp, and his piercing blue eyes immediately find me, taking in my sleepy state and wild hair.
A slow, knowing smirk plays on his lips. "Good. You're up. Did you pack?"
His voice, a little rough from exertion, sends a shiver down my spine. For a second, my mind is blank. Pack? Then I remember. New York.
I shake my head, feeling caught off guard. "No. Not yet."
