Page 143 of Reverse

“What?!” I turn the camera to see the notification that EC took a screenshot.

“You perv, I was barely seventeen.”

A satisfied grin covers his beautiful face. “I’m going to lose some skin, servicing myself to that one.”

“Shameless,” I grin. We’ve been on the phone for hours. Most of the time, he was on the road but refused to let me go as he checked into his hotel. As he unpacked, I cooked dinner. As he ordered room service and called his business manager from the hotel phone, I showered. I’ve loved every minute of it, and the fact that he refused to end the call no matter what was happening lit me up from the inside out because it’s as close totogetheras we can be. Easton’s exceptional knack for making ordinary days extraordinary and menial tasks seem substantial, unchanged. Even on FaceTime.

“Your parents live in a palace, and you live in a shoebox,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, and how many square feet is that house you described as a prison?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m moving out when the tour ends. I tried to find a place after you left Seattle, and my dad ratted me out, so Mom went postal. Trust me, I’m aware I’m too fucking old to live at home—and have been for years—but in my defense, I slept at that studio. It wasn’t embarrassing until now.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, and don’t think for one minute I don’t know you’re frugal.”

“Did you just call me cheap?”

“Maybe a little,” I grin, entering my room.

“I know how to manage my money,” he states, “there’s a difference.”

“I’ll take your word on that, and you did spring for a private plane,” I lay back against my pillows, and his gaze dips.

“About that, I actually called in a favor,” he admits sheepishly.

“You shit, you let me believe you paid for that. That’s some favor.”

“It doesn’t hurt to have friends.”

He averts his gaze briefly, and I realize he’s checking the time on his hotel nightstand. “It’s getting late. You tired, baby?”

“A little, but I don’t want to get off.”

He lifts a brow.

“The phone,” I grin. “I mean, I’m not saying I want to get off, either, you know what I mean.”

“There’s that gift by way of words. Thank God I speak fluent Butler gibberish.”

He full-on laughs at my answering expression. “Kiss my ass, Crowne.”

“God, what I wouldn’t give to do just that and more.”

My cheeks hurt with the width of my smile. “And just like that, you’re forgiven.”

“Good. Put on your pajamas,” he orders softly. “I’ll tuck you in.”

“Uh . . .” I eye my duffle bag. “I’m good.”

His chuckle fills the room. “What’s with the hesitation?”

“No hesitation.”

“Your neck is turning tomato, baby. No sense in ever lying to me . . . Ah, I know what this is about.” A smug smirk graces his face. “Grab your sexy cap, Miss Muffet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know it’s there,” he taunts. “Come on, let’s see it.”

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