It was a far cry from wilderness, but the rest of the world was muffled a little, and the trees around her were a kind of sanctuary.
She clamped her gooseneck holder to the armrest, aimed it where she wanted, called him using video, and then started unwrapping one of the bacon steakburgers.
His face came onto her screen with a warm smile, and she saw him take in the fact she was outside.
“Where are you? And what are you eating?”
“Centennial Park, and there’s this fantastic little Korean deli nearby. I ordered two bacon steakburgers and a fried fish burger.” She held her foil-wrapped food up for the camera. “I ate the fish burger on the walk through the park. I’ve had dinner from them a few times. Bulgogi, katsu, spicypork. So good. But walking and eating…” She reached for her drink. “Burgers seemed safest.”
While she drank through the straw, he asked, “Who the fuck is holding your phone?”
Right. He could see both of her hands at the same time. One holding the burger, the other holding the drink.
She put both down, removed the phone from the holder, and aimed it so he could see her flexible gooseneck holder, and how it was clamped to the bench.
“That seems like a pretty specific tool to just happen to have handy.”
“I keep it in my purse pretty much all the time. I mean, when I’m not on a date.”
He looked like he didn’t get it, so she added, “I get all kinds of noteworthy b-roll footage. Anytime I’m in an interesting place I think I can use, I’ll film myself eating, or walking, or whatever.”
He lifted a brow. “And why do you need footage?”
She put the phone back into the holder, picked her sandwich up, and wondered why she hadn’t told him this from the beginning. It felt awkward, now.
“I have a cooking channel. On YouTube. I’m not, like, huge. It brings in decent money, but I’m not going to quit my regular job. It’s just kind of a side gig thing.”
He took a few seconds to respond. “If it’s monetized enough for decent money, there’s a lot involved in producing that kind of thing. More than a side gig.”
“Okay,” she admitted. “So maybe I’m big enough to pull in a following even when I only publish once a week. If I tried to do it every day, or even a few times a week, it would absolutely be a full-time job, but I only release once a week, every Wednesday. And since setting up all the lights andcameras is a huge pain in the ass, I film five or six episodes while they’re up. It takes all day, and sometimes into the next day, changing clothes between each. I can take my time editing them at my leisure, adding in b-roll stuff. I have five finished and scheduled right now. I like to keep ahead of myself, so I’m never rushed. I have most of my next filming day figured out — what I’ll cook, the opening sequences written, and all the bullet points I want to hit for each meal.”
“Send me the link.”
It wasn’t a request, and damn if her clit didn’t respond to his voice, but she merely nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
“While you’re apparently in the mood to share, I need to ask a serious question.”
“Okay.” Because what else was she going to say?
“Did I do okay balancing the time and intensity Monday night? It’s the first time you’ve had to work the next day after a night with me, and if it was too much, if you struggled to get through your workday, I need to know so I can adjust.”
There wassomuch she wanted to say, but she was in a public place, so she had to figure out how to say it. She’d put earbuds in, so no one could hear him, but that didn’t fix what they might hear her say.
“I neverchanged,” she said, keeping her voice low. “And that was my choice, but you did a number on my asshole while—” She cut herself off before saying he neglected her pussy and clit entirely all nightandthe next morning. “Certain other parts felt neglected.”
His smirk was entirely without apology. “Mornings, for me, are about enjoying the work I put in the night before. Swollen, tender, raw tissues are my favorite — it hurts somuch worse, even when I’m not being rough.” A shrug. “But somehow, even when I intend to be gentle, your reactions inflame the sadist in me and I change my mind.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You seem to enjoy it, though.”
“I’m not sureenjoyis the word I’d choose,” she said. “But I can’t argue that it works for my inner masochist.”
His eyes softened. Her words had obviously touched him, and the look he gave her made her wish he was here, so she could touch him.
“I’m really glad you called,” he said.
“I know your week gets crazy starting tonight, and I wanted to hear your voice.” That sounded better than admitting she missed him, right?
But she’d actually had a reason to talk to him. It hadn’t just been about hoping he’d have time to talk. “I also need to tell you — I don’t think I can do it again this coming Monday. The owner’s key staff arrives that morning, and the head guy is going to want to put his own mark on the dishes, and that’s fine, but I have a feeling it’ll be a marathon day. Tuesday too.”
He tilted his head. The disappointment was there if she knew how to look for it, which she did by now. “Thanks for letting me know.” A beat. “I might go see my family. Leave Sunday night, come back Wednesday afternoon.”
