Page 103 of The Overtime Kiss

“Why did you go?” It’s asked with only concern, not accusation.

Dishes clink in the kitchen. The kids must have had dinner already. “I went for a walk,” I say, answeringwherenotwhy.

Tyler shoots me a look that says bullshit. “You took off right away.”

“I told Luna I was going,” I point out, but now I feel stupid in a new way.

Was I rude to him? Should I have told him too?

We might have a game plan for sex—we might be mostly sticking to it—but what’s the game plan for…well, life?

“Was it seeing Elle?” he asks gently.

My chest tightens. Am I this obvious to everyone? I hesitate.

“I had to talk to her about Thanksgiving and Christmas,” he says, and the first of those is coming up soon. “Just a lot to figure out.”

“Oh. Sure, of course.”

“Did it bother you?” he asks quietly, and I am see-through.

“Not really.”

“But a little?”

“There’s no reason for me to even be bothered,” I say, raising my chin, staying strong.

“Don’t be bothered,” he says, then cups my cheek and sighs longingly. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says in a low, hot whisper.

And I’m not bothered anymore.

Wait, that’s a lie.

I’m hot and bothered.

“I saved some dinner for you. Come upstairs,” he says, and it’s hardly a demand. It’s a thoughtful invitation.

So I say yes.

And then I enjoy the hell out of the mushroom and lentil dish he made.

We’re two floors apart. Me in my bed. Him in his.

Is he even asleep?

But that question is answered a minute later when my phone buzzes.

Tyler: Watching your videos again. Swore I wouldn’t. But I can’t stop. And I’m so fucking turned on. And it’s All. Your. Fault.

I gasp as heat rolls through me.

Sabrina: Which one?

Tyler: The last one you posted. I can’t stop watching it. Your lips. Your hair. Everything. Just everything.

His text comes out frantic. Bitten off. Like maybe he’s dictating it while fucking his fist. Then another one comes.

Tyler: Tell me you’re fucking yourself too.

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