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“Your phone rang a couple of times when you were in the shower. I didn’t know if you wanted me to answer, so I erred on the side of privacy.”
I walk to the table and pick it up, frowning at the two missed calls from Ravenna. I scowl. She doesn’t usually call. I tap out a quick text.
Sorry I missed your calls.
Raven
Hey! You busy tonight? I have tickets to Cabaret.
Jeez. This is awkward. I glance at Gavin.
“Is there a certain number of times you can sleep with someone before they start thinking you’re dating?” I ask.
“It’s like five,” he says.
“Oh. Shit.”
I have plans with my brother tonight. Sorry. Heard it’s a great show.
Raven
No worries! Next time. And can I expect a text Sunday?
She adds an eggplant emoji. I find emojis concerning. Red flags in general.
Still, the sex is good. After two days of watching Disney movies, playing with trucks, and cleaning up after the tornado that is my son, she’s a great place to spend my stress.
I respond.
Probably.
Let’s be real. And it’ll be a good opportunity to remind her that this arrangement is strictly casual. At least, if she’s seeing a show tonight, she won’t be at The Penthouse.
Tonight, I meet Matthew in front of the Eastmoor. He’s waiting outside when the car drops me off from work. He greets me with the hug I’ve been waiting for all day. All week, if I’m honest with myself. I hold tight to him. If I were forced to hug twenty men of the same size, I would recognize him by feel.
His strong arms encircle my waist beneath my suit jacket, and he rests his head against mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I tell him, not letting go yet. He smells warm and clean and slightly sweet. Whatever new cologne this is, it reminds me of pristine white sand on a turquoise sea, the sun beating down. A deserted island.
“You wanna go up and change?” he asks.
“No, it’s late. And it’s a short walk.”
I ease up on my grip, and he lets me go. We take a step back from each other. I straighten his hair while he smooths my suit. “You look good,” I tell him.
“Thanks, so do you.”
I laugh. “Do I? I showered after I got off the air.”
“It shows. You dry your hair, too?” he asks, reaching out to touch it.
“I have people for that,” I tell him with a grin.
“Tell them I think they do great work.”
Why do I feel like I’m blushing? “Would you stop looking at me like that? Let’s go.”
The walk is slow going for Matthew with his long legs and my three-legged limp, but he doesn’t complain.