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I steel my spine. “Honestly? I don’t care.”
45
Jonah
My phone stares at me accusingly from where it rests next to the bed. It’s unlocked with the photo of Callie in the blue dress filling the screen. It’s my favorite photo of the ones she sent, because it shows her face—her mischievous smile and sparkling eyes. But I still haven’t responded.
Coward.
Be sure.
If I send one to her, what will she do with it? Will it end up leaked to the press? Annalise had some photos that were dangerously close to the one Callie is asking for. I wasn’t as famous at the time, or they would have been front page news, along with the dirty texts I sent. I shut my eyes and sip the whiskey that’s balanced on my stomach. The hotel room is luxurious, the best LA has to offer, and I don’t care. I haven’t used the spa, I haven’t checked out the bar, hell, I haven’t even eaten. I miss her.
Which is fucking stupid. But a fact. And I think she might miss me, too.
Your turn.
I want to send her something. I want to keep playing this game. Callie makes me feel so alive. And now, alone in my hotel, I can finally admit that my life is better with her in it. She wouldn’t leak the photos. She’s not Annalise. I’m sure of that. She’s kind and decent. She cares about her neighborhood, her family, her friends.
Before I can think too much of it, I pop an arm behind my head, pull up my phone camera, and take a photo.
46
Callie
I’m ashamed at how I scramble for my phone when Jonah’s name appears on the screen. I take a deep breath, expecting a message about how he doesn’t do that, or maybe ignoring me completely.
I nearly drop the phone when I see what he sent. His shirt is open, his broad chest is bare. The dim lighting lovingly caresses each ridge of muscle. Holy shit.
Callie
Didn’t think you were a selfie kind of guy.
Jonah
So you don’t like it?
Callie
Oh no, I love it.
I roll my lips. I love it and I want more.
Callie
Another one?
I wait, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, and my body buzzing with anticipation. When I finally get his photo, the breath leaves my chest.
A mirror selfie. His hands gripping the bathroom counter, his pants slung low enough to show the veins above his groin. But best of all is his expression. Feral intensity, half-parted lips, arrogant dark eyes.
Fuck.
I lay back against the bed. I need more. I’m flushed and aroused and damn, I miss him. I want to send him something back, but I’m too nervous. Old Callie would never have done this, but new Callie? I shut my eyes and imagine Jonah’s face in the park the other night. Beautiful.
I can do this. For him.
I slip on the new underwear from today and the matching bra. Both are navy lace, with sheer panels. I take two artful shots, just the curve of my hip and the side of my bra.
