Then, he says, “It’s been two days.”
I freeze. Was he counting? I mean, I was, so I know that math is correct, but I wasn’t aware he’d bewaitinglike this.
I grin. “It has.”
“I just figured… well, I hadn’t heard from you.” There is a hint of anxiety in his voice, and it sounds as if he’s shuffling around on the other end.
As if he’s just as on edge as I am.
“I was giving you time to settle into your new job,” I tell him, though it’s only a half-truth.
“Oh.” The sound is soft, resigned.
“What are you doing?” I press, sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Nothing, just standing outside of the gym,” he answers.
“The gym, huh? Are you about to work out?” I let my flirty tone drip into the receiver, imagining him straining under a barbell or sweating on a treadmill.
Hot.
“Uh, yeah,” he murmurs. “It’s back day.”
A small laugh falls from my lips, my left fist tightening on my lap. “If you want,Ican put you on your back instead. It’ll be quite the workout.”
Cameron makes a startled choking noise that has me laughing again, and he stutters out his response. “A-Atticus! You can’t just…saythings like that.”
“And why not?” I pry, listening for every shuddering breath or quiet huff of air he’ll give me.
“Because! It’s inappropriate.”
“I can think of plenty of inappropriate things I want to say to you, but I’d ratherdothem if you’ll let me,” I tell him, voice low.
“Atticus,” he repeats, but this time it’s a soft whisper. A plea.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
It’s silent again. My heart is thundering so loudly I’m afraid I’ll miss whatever he says next, but I can’t seem to calm it.
Say yes,I mentally beg.
“When will I see you again?” he asks instead, his voice quiet and timid.
I can picture it: him in his workout clothes as he stands outside of the gym like a vision of pure male dominance as he whimpers into the phone like a desperate little thing.
It makes me hot. It makes me needy.
The moment he spoke to me, the moment he became more than the guy who watched me with reverence for so many years, I’ve been entranced.
“Whenever you want, baby,” I tell him, my hand moving to massage myself through my slacks.
“Even if… even if it’s to hang out? To get to know each other?” he whispers.
Oh. Not for sex? He wants to genuinely spend time with me? Well… I’m not necessarily opposed to that, actually. Not at all.
Which is incredibly rare for me, may I add.
“If that’s what you want,” I reply. “If you want something and I can give it to you, I will.”
