Page 36 of Babies for the Big Shot

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Laura laughs so hard I hear her nearly drop her phone. “You’re such a disaster.”

“I’mtryingnot to be.” I pause. “And it doesn’t help that I’ve been feeling weird all week. Jittery. Off. Like… butterflies. But on steroids. I really need to get it together.”

Laura hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s not just emotional, babe. Maybe it’s physical. Stress does weird things to your body. So does sexual frustration.”

“Wow,” I deadpan. “Thanks, Dr. Phil.”

“Seriously,” she says. “Do something that calms you down. Take a hot bath. Light a candle…”

Buzz.

I blink. Then sit up so fast I nearly catapult Meatball off the couch. My phone lights up.

Nick Ashford:You up?

I stare at it.

Then whisper, “Oh no.”

Laura gasps. “What was that? Who just texted you? Is ithim?”

“I gotta go,” I say, already hanging up.

My heart pounds. For a full seven seconds, I stare at his name on the screen, frozen, waiting for the letters to twist into “Just kidding.” They don’t.

Nick:You up?

Nick:Still thinking about you.

I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until I exhale all at once.

My fingers hover over the screen.

Sara: You shouldn’t text me.

Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then come back again.

Nick: I know.

Nick: But I can’t stop.

My stomach flips. My skin prickles. Every nerve in my body is suddenly awake.

I scan my apartment, searching for eyes on me, hoping it makes this feel less dangerous. Less real.

Sara: Really?

What am I doing?

There’s a pause. Longer this time. I watch the dots dance. Typing, not typing, typing again.

Nick: I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss. About how you tasted. The sound you made. How soft you were.

My breath catches.

Nick: I should be thinking about Q3 projections. But all I can picture is you in my office again. Against the wall. Saying my name like that.

I make a sound in the back of my throat that would deeply embarrass me in public. Meatball cocks his head, eyes asking, “You okay, ma’am?”

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