Page 34 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

It is another sleepless night, the kind that has become all too familiar. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts. Mostly of Elliot. The physical connection we share is intoxicating, a high I crave more than I want to admit. I reach for my phone, fingers hovering over the keys before finally giving in and typing the usual message that always leads to a steamy phone call.

Ziggy:Can't sleep.

I could use a distraction.

I wait, my heart pounding in my chest, expecting his usual quick reply. Minutes tick by, each one stretching longer than the last. No response. The silence is deafening, amplifying my frustrations and insecurities I've been trying to ignore. I throw my phone onto the nightstand in a huff, pulling the covers over my head. As I lie here, surrounded by the darkness, the anger compounds on itself, and the disappointment settles in. Instead of the release I desperately needed tonight, all I find is emptiness.

The next morning, I wake up to the harsh sunlight streaming through the curtains and an empty screen. Still no response from Elliot. I try to shake off my frustration as I get ready for the day. My coverage assignment has me in California, covering an afternoon game, and I can't afford to let my personal life interfere with my work.

The game itself is a welcome distraction, full of action and energy, but as soon as it ends, the void left by Elliot's silence creeps back in. With nothing but my thoughts for company, I head to a crowded restaurant for dinner alone. The hope is that the buzzing of conversation and laughter will be my distraction. Instead, the bustling restaurant just makes me feel more isolated. I pick at my food while my mind wanders to why I haven’t gotten a response. His absence is unusual and, at this point, is starting to weigh on me in a way I can't seem to shake.

As I am leaving the restaurant, my phone buzzes in my purse. I glance at the screen and see Elliot's name flashing. My heart flutters for a few beats as I answer, my irritation simmering just below the surface.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and familiar. "I hear you are heading back to Arizona soon and that our travel schedules are going to line up for a while." The casual tone of his voice only adds to my irritation, but there’s also a pull, an undeniable draw to him that I can't ignore or explain.

"Yeah," I sigh. "Something about the Red Wolves being on a heater, and the world wants constant coverage."

His chuckles on the other end send a shiver down my spine, and despite my annoyance, I’m once again looking forward to seeing him. "I'm ready to see you," he says, his voice dropping suggestively.

"Me too," I admit, feeling the tension ease a bit.

But then, in the background, I hear a woman’s voice saying, "Come on, it's your turn, big boy."

My stomach twists as I clench my jaw, but before I can react, he quickly says, "Gotta go, talk soon," and hangs up, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk, seething.

The moment Elliot hangs up, I feel my rose-colored dream world crash down around me. My mind starts spiraling out of control, imagining him with another woman. I have zero claim to him. None whatsoever. We are nothing more than a secret arrangement—a mutual convenience. But the thought of him with someone else makes my stomach churn with jealousy. I don't want to claim him. I don't want to admit that I feel anything more than lust. Yet, the idea of letting him go is equallyunbearable. I’m caught in a torturous limbo of my own design, not wanting to want him but unable to stop myself from craving his presence.

The next afternoon, Elliot's name lights up my phone screen again. I keep my responses brief, giving one-word answers and avoiding his usual banter. He seems to notice but doesn't push it. I sigh, my mind racing. I want to ask him if he is seeing anyone else, just to curb my own curiosity, but I can't bring myself to do it. Instead, I try to steer the conversation to safer ground, one-word answers.

:How's California

treating you?

Ziggy:Fine

:Just fine? Come on,

give me something.

Ziggy:Busy.

:Busy is good,

I guess. Makes the

countdown until you are

back in Arizona go faster.

Ziggy:Yeah.

:I saw some of

your coverage yesterday.

You looked sexy.

Ziggy:Okay.