Page 39 of Last Love

And rules.

And healthy expectations.

All of a sudden, Ryder momentarily appears back in my room to confess, “Just wanted you to know that you’re pretty much all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about today.”

“Same.”

Well, there goes all the previously declared bullshit.

“Give me your number?” He pulls out his cell from his pocket. “Maybe text me at lunch to help tide me over?”

“Or to torture you with naked selfies of me in bed?”

His jaw drops in speechless.

Whoa!

Where did that come from?!

What am I thinking?

Am I even thinking anymore or just…feeling?

Once I’ve rattled off the number, I’m slipped another kiss – this one with tongue – and given a second goodbye.

I know he’s actually gone thanks to the sound of my front door being slammed shut.

I don’t know if it’s because he’s in a haste or just upset he has to be separated from me for so long.

Is it wrong to hope it’s the latter?

Is it wrong for me that it is the latter?

Oh…

I need help.

And coffee.

And an emergency powdered donut from the stash I keep on the top shelf.

Getting to the last two are not an option curtesy of my vibrating cell that’s currently on my nightstand.

I cross over to the device and swipe it open only to discover it’s a selfie.

From Ry.

It’s hard to say which I love more.

Seeing him goofily grinning while stuck in traffic or the caption underneath.

Is it 7:30 yet?

The chance to reply is commandeered by Katherine’s face drunkenly squished against mine, which has been her contact photo since we first became friends.  Rather than ignore her to answer him, I take the call. “Hey! You’re up super early for someone who insists not to be bothered before nine a.m. when she doesn’t have her daughter to get to school.”

“Yes, well, I got the itinerary that my first interview of the day was supposed to be over coffee and muffins in the café of this luxury hotel; however, the interviewer evidentially did not since I sat sipping Caffè Americano alone for twenty-two minutes before I called my publicist to find out they would actually be meeting me for tea and literal fucking crumpets this afternoon.”

My body flops onto the edge of my bed during a wince.

“Crumpets?! What am I British?!”

“Um…are they?”

“Not the point, darling,” she casually brushes off and proceeds to spiral. “I now have back-to-back midday interviews with no time to breathe between, a motivational speech to deliver to college students in an hour, and dinner with my agent and her husband tonight, which just makes me miss my own husband. And my daughter. And my best friend. And…” Katherine expels another loud breath. “Good God, I can’t wait to come home.”

“I miss you too.”

There’s a long, unexpected pause prior to her suspiciously prodding, “You sound…chipper. Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

“Happy?” Her skepticism swiftly deepens. “You’re happy?”

Oooo…

Yeah.

Mistake heard.

Fuck, why is my brain having so much trouble braining today?

It’s probably good for it as much as my body that’s covered in bruises and hickeys that I hunker down at home.

“Why are you happy?” She doesn’t wait for words to form. “You had sex last night!”

“How do you know that?!”

“Ohmygod, you had a lot of sex!”

“Okay, be honest with me, do you have spy cameras in my house and office?”

“Bitch, I’m your best friend. I don’t need cameras. I can literally hear it in your voice. You’re smiling!”

My mouth starts to deny it when a pain in my cheeks from doing it so much thrums in objection.

“If you’re smiling that means it wasn’t post breakup sex with Xander.”

“That’s a huge no.”

And sex with Ry was nothing like sex with Xander.

Sex with Xander was good enough?

Orgasms were had often, which I’ve heard is more than some people get.

But sex with Ry?

Ho-ly. Shit.

I can’t sit comfortably without still feeling him on some parts of my body.

Plus, I literally lost count of how many times we both came.

That’s…pretty unusual…

I think?

I wanna ask Katherine, but I also don’t wanna ask her.

That whole damned if I do, damned if I don’t thing.

“Did you have a one-night stand? Was it that kickboxing instructor you pretend you don’t have a crush on? Oh! Did you go out drinking with Antonio and end up sleeping with someone who was attracted to both of you, but you were the only single one?”

“I don’t like how I look in that scenario.”

“Darling, it’s fine. There are many bisexual men out there that are truly equally attracted to both males and females. It doesn’t mean you’re the backup option.”

“Yeah, but you phrased it like I was.”

She snickers at the comment before scolding, “Presley…who did you sleep with?”

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