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I smirk at the make-believe games he plays. “Yes.”
“And I’m working out a plan to come and kidnap this girl in London who I’m obsessed with.” His voice has dropped to his playful tone.
“What are you going to do with her once you have her?”
“What wouldn’t I do with her, if I had her.” He breathes out heavily.
I smile softly.
“I’m sorry I thought of you while I had sex with someone else,” he tells me. “It wasn’t fair.”
I frown, and for some stupid reason, my eyes fill with tears. No, it wasn’t.
“I won’t do it again, angel, I promise.”
I listen.
“Can I see you?” he asks.
“Erm.” I run through my schedule in my mind. “I have something on tomorrow and Saturday night,” I tell him.
“Sunday night?”
“We’ll see.” I sigh.
“Lottie.”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever felt like you know someone better than you actually do?”
I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile. That’s exactly how I feel with him, and I don’t know where this attachment to him is coming from because it shouldn’t be there. I really don’t know him at all. After a pause, I reply, “Perhaps.”
“I’ll see you Sunday then?”
“Yes.” I find myself smiling like a fool.
“What am I going to do with myself ‘til then?”
“Why don’t you have a bath and spread your legs.” I smirk.
“Already done that. My dick is chaffed from jerking off to thoughts of you.”
My mouth falls open. “Spencer Jones, you are the crassest man I have ever met.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. And I’m not crass, I’m just honest.” I can tell he’s smiling.
“Goodbye, Spencer.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come over here and make up in person?”
“I’ll see you Sunday.” I smirk.
“That you will. I’m excited to see you.”
I don’t really want to say goodbye to him. Making up with him in person does seem like way more fun than this. We both stay silent and eventually I have to end the call.
“Goodbye, Spencer,” I eventually force out.
