He let himself back into his apartment and immediately stripped off his sweat-slickened shirt and tossed it into the laundry pile in his bedroom. Towel wrapped around his shoulders, he headed for the kitchen, needing a cold drink. At least he felt better, having exerted energy on the inanimate object while pretending it was his ex-manager’s face, he thought wryly. A knock sounded. He wiped his damp head with the towel and opened his door to find Avery standing there, surrounded by suitcases, plural, and Rick, her bodyguard, by her side. Grey nodded at the other man, acknowledging him, then braced a hand on the doorframe and met Avery’s gaze. Before he could speak, the elevator opened behind Rick. “Call if you need me,” the bodyguard said, then stepped back into the waiting car. Grey looked from her bags, up her long, sexy legs, taking in her cute, flirty dress, before meeting her wide-eyed gaze once more.
