Page 51 of The Love Rematch
There’s a pause, a breath, and then—
“Jake.”
At the sound of her voice, his control shatters. He rips the curtains aside. His gaze shoots immediately to the guesthouse. Obviously, she’s not in the window. She’s on the phone. It’s not allowed. Both of them could be in a huge amount of trouble. Still, disappointment floods his system. He wants to see her.
“Jake? Are you there?”
“Yes! Sorry, yes. I’m here. Surprised is all. I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to call.”
“Yeah, well, I just got off the phone with Sam and we fly to London tomorrow, so I figured I may as well use the last twenty minutes on this bad boy while I still can. Wasn’t that what you said? Use it wisely?”
Yes. It was. He just never in a million years thought her interpretation ofwiselywould be to call him. He would have been less surprised to have the floor give out underneath him, which, come to think of it, is exactly how this feels, as if he’s tumbling down a black hole with no sense of when he might hit bottom.
Nothing left to lose, he can’t help but ask, “Is this wise?”
“No.” She laughs softly into the line, and the hairs at the back of his neck rise. “Probably not. But I wanted to say thank you, without the cameras and the microphones and the double meanings. You have no idea how much talking to my sister has meant to me, and it wouldn’t have been possible without you.”
He’s pretty sure he does know how much it means to her, which is exactly why he did it. “No problem.”
“Anyway, that’s why I was calling. So—”
“Where are you?” he asks, so desperate not to hear goodbye he blurts the first thing that comes to mind.
“Oh, um, in the bathroom. Don’t worry, I stuffed a towel under the door. No one can hear me.”
“I’m not worried.”
“Good.”
“I want to be able to picture you while we’re talking.”
“Oh.”
“Are you sitting next to the sink?”
“Yeah.”
“Toes on the towel rack?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Head back against the tiles?”
“Stop. You’re freaking me out. Can you see me?”
“What are you wearing?”
The image of her in his T-shirt and a thong burns the backs of his eyeballs, but her answer is even better. “My pink flannels with the rainbows on them.”
He barks out a laugh. “Iknewyou still had those.”
“Well, what are you wearing, Mister High-and-Mighty?”
“Boxer briefs.”
“Oh…”
She swallows audibly. He grins.
