Here’s my cell if you ever need to reach me about the lunarly account.
She liked having Grayson Hemming chase her, and if she pushed him away entirely, he would find someone new.
Are you feeling better?
The text came early that evening, several hours after she’d responded to his message. Always a question, never a leading statement. He could have said he was glad she was feeling better, and she could have agreed, and that would have been that, but no. He posed questions and waited patiently for their answers, letting her set her own trap. Typical fucking lawyer.
She didn’t like text messages and phone calls, for neither gave her the upper hand. She needed him to see her, to see her wide eyes and the innocent, girl-next-door look she strove for, her bare legs pulled up with her chin over her knees, the pretty tits he liked concealed under an oversized sorority hoodie. She pulled out her ponytail, ran her fingers through her hair until it was snarl-free, arranged herself against the sofa, and pushed the video icon beside his newly saved number, listening to the song the app played as the call connected, notes like rolling water.
The melody was broken, and a small face filled the screen. The little boy had a tumble of dark brown hair that fell over his forehead and bittersweet chocolate eyes fringed in ludicrously long lashes, eyes that widened in shock when they saw her. His mouth opened, perfect little rosebud lips forming a small oh of surprise, his head swinging up to the person beside him with a small gasp.
“Well, why did you push the button, buddy?” Her stomach melted at the sound of Grayson’s voice, addressing this small child with such familiarity. “Are you going to say hi, or what?” The little boy’s eyes swung back to hers, still saucer wide. He mouthed the word ‘hi’ silently and apparently thought better of it, shaking his head vehemently. “Okay, then give me back my phone, please.”
She didn’t know why her heart was thumping when he finally filled the screen.
“Talking to girls is at least a kindergarten skill, so you’re about a year too early. And before anyone else asks, I do not have games on my phone.”
“He’s adorable,” she laughed, feeling as though someone had taken a plane of sandpaper to her lungs. The little boy was adorable, but she hadn’t realized he had children, and she didn’t like to admit that it changed things. “I am feeling better, thank you for asking.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
A face appeared over his shoulder, peering down to examine his call before rolling his eyes, another dark-haired man, a bit younger than Grayson. She heard voices in the background as the man behind him disappeared, the little boy’s small voice piping up, speaking to someone out of frame, a woman’s voice laughing in response, two loud male voices exclaiming, and then another someone passed behind him. Compared to the silence of her apartment, it was a cacophony, and it was a wonder he could hear her at all.
“I thought maybe you had changed your —”
Something dinged, and she watched a small white shape streak through the frame an instant before Grayson cut off, gasping. His mouth dropped open and his shoulders hunched, and there was an explosion of laughter around him. The phone dropped, forgotten. From the slim vantage point she was afforded, Vanessa watched him launch himself over the back of the sofa with more agility than she’d expected from a man his size, a dozen different voices laughing and shouting, making her wince. The little boy’s face appeared again briefly, waving at her silently before jabbing at the screen, disconnecting.
Vanessa blinked, too stunned to process the call. She expected him to be sitting in an equally quiet apartment, tastefully decorated with natural lighting, sipping an old-fashioned without a hair out of place. The noisy, zoo-like atmosphere of wherever he had been did not mesh with everything she knew about him. And what is that? Vanessa asked herself. He’s bossy and arrogant and spends a fortune on champagne. That’s all you know. You didn’t even know he had kids.
She hadn’t expected her phone to go off again that evening, at least not with a call from him.
Another video call, much later, when she was already curled in bed. He was as well, his hand propping up his head, his elbow depressing a plump, feather-stuffed pillow. She could see he was bare-chested, the slate grey sheets and modern, minimalist headboard more in line with what she’d expected, and her thighs pressed together, chasing the tingle the sight of him caused.
“Sorry about earlier,” he laughed. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging with the sight of me covered in egg yolk and no goodbye.”
She laughed in spite of herself, feeling a low swoop in her belly. So what, he has kids. He works such long hours. It’s probably joint custody or something, right? It’s not like you’d ever have to see them.
“Is that what that was?! Do I even want to know? Is that your little boy? He’s adorable, he looks just like you.”
“Oh, no, no thank you. My nephew. I marginally like other people’s kids, but I’m allergic to the thought of my own. And no, you really don’t want to know.”
She breathed in relief. Children had never been a part of her plan, and it didn’t matter if people told her she might change her mind down the road. She could see the road clearly, and there were no baby pit stops on it.
“Your brother’s? Or sister?”
He chuckled, a low, sardonic sound, shaking his head at her as if she’d unwittingly failed a test she’d not been aware she’d sat for.
“Still as useful as a first-year law student, rabbit. Brothers. I have five brothers, but I didn’t call you to talk about any of them them.”
She pursed her lips. Being on the receiving end of his poisoned tongue at work was expected, and everyone received a piece of his pretentiousness; putting up with it at home was different.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re feeling better. I hope the turn didn’t take too much out of you.”
Despite her annoyance, Vanessa felt as if she were being hypnotized, as if his deep voice’s low, velvet roll was putting her in thrall, the sight of him alone in his bed being too delicious to contemplate.
“Maybe next month we can make plans.”
She wanted to call him out on it, wanted to call out his hypocrisy, to ask what happened to nothing would matter once they went back to the office, but she liked Grayson Hemming chasing her, and she wanted to spend the full moon with him again.
“That would be nice. I’d like that.”
The smile he gave her was slow, his lips never parting, but that dimple appeared and her stomach flip-flopped, hoping he would not change his mind.
“Well, I should let you go. See you in the morning.”
“See you in the morning,” she murmured in agreement, letting out a great whoosh once the phone had disconnected, rolling to her back. There was no way she could go to sleep now, not with his deep voice still humming in her ear, not with the vision of his heavily muscled arm and bare chest dancing in her head. She wondered if he slept naked, if he’d begun stroking himself as soon as they disconnected their call, her hand skating down her body, fingers pressing into her folds to rub at the slickness she found. It didn’t take long to reach a shallow orgasm, her fingers and the drone of his voice being enough for her to finish quickly, enough for her to drift to sleep without further thought of him and his infuriating smile.
Keeping him chasing seemed to work.
He’d stared at her through the glass the morning after their phone call, his nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed, the weight of his eyes staying on her for much of the day. She wondered if he could smell the other man’s hands on her skin, the scent of his breath and sweat and semen, and as soon as she got home that evening, she ran a scalding bath. She’d showered multiple times since the moon, of course, but she wanted to be sure. She scrubbed her skin raw, leaving no trace of anything behind other than the scent of her gardenia-scented soap, and it seemed to be enough, for the next day when he watched her, his brows were drawn together, but he’d lost the annoyed look of revulsion.
