Textbooks lay sprawled across my bed, as I hammered out the first draft of my research paper. The topic was neighborhoods and crime, the subject for which happened to be a childhood friend of mine who’d lived in Detroit and had gone missing a few years back.

Beside me, my cellphone chimed with a text and I lifted it to an unknown number popped up on my screen.

An attached video stirred my interest, and without much thought, I pressed the play button, opening the screen to the sounds of harsh breaths over whipping winds. The rayless night sky added a dark contrast against the thousands of lights, as far as the horizon, scattered between brilliantly illuminated skyscrapers off in the distance. To the left, the distinct shape of the RenCen stood lit like a beacon for the surrounding buildings. The camera panned down to a red blinking light and twisted contortions of metal, like machinery. A lump caught in my throat as the view beyond the structure showed streetlights and small cars tooling along what appeared to be hundreds of feet below the cameraman.

The phone screen flipped to Ty’s magnificent face, his cheeks flushed, presumably from the climb, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. Behind him, the city of Detroit sat like his conquered kingdom, the span of his domain spread out before him, while he watched from his throne at a dizzying height.

Terrifyingly mesmerizing.

Two seconds later, my phone buzzed with a call and I clicked to answer the now-familiar number blinking across my screen.

“Oh my God, you’re crazy.”

“It’s beautiful up here.” His deep, sleepy voice shot a tingle across my skin and tugged some invisible string attached to my inner thighs.

“I’ll take your word for it.” I lay back on my pillow, listening to the sound of his labored breaths through the phone.

“You should come find me.”

I smiled at that, running the capped end of my pen across my cheek, mentally stifling the urge to shove it into my mouth. “No thanks. I like my feet firmly planted on the ground. What are you on anyway?”

“Tower crane.”

Tiny wings fluttered in my stomach at thought of him scaling something so high in the air, higher than the RenCen, and I tried not to think of how many near-misses he could’ve had along the way. “If that’s what you have in mind for our date, I’m out.”

“You think I’d let you fall, Sera?” A loaded question.

One I didn’t bother to answer and risk he’d hear the honesty bleeding through it.

“Your turn,” he said, switching the subject. “Send me something exciting.”

“What? Like a dick pic?” Palm to my face, I captured a chuckle, imagining his expression on the other end of the line.

“You send me a dick pic and this conversation’s over.” In spite of the amusement that colored his tone, his voice held a warning.

“Well I’m afraid there’s nothing exciting going on here. Unless you’d like me to read the two-thousand word draft of my research paper.” I shoved the plastic pen between my teeth, the pressure a comfort where it pressed into my cheek.

“Where are you right now?”

“My bedroom.”

“Where at?” His questions were layered with anticipation, slowly building toward something that plied my curiosity.

So I played along.

“My bed.”

“Show me.”

I’d never been the kind of girl to fire off nude pics to guys, having read too many cyberbullying stories. I didn’t take selfies, didn’t really follow any particular social media, and I sure as hell didn’t pose for the camera. Had no idea what a guy like Ty would consider sexy. I stared down at myself, as I lay sprawled on the bed in a spaghetti-strap tank and athletic shorts, my books scattered around me. Not exactly a racy lingerie spread.

“I’m waiting.” Something dark and wicked carried through the phone, sending another flutter to my stomach.

“You’re sitting on top of the world right now, waiting on a selfie from me? I’m sure your view is far more enticing.”

“Enticing? Yeah, sure. Nothing I haven’t seen before, though.”

“You strike me as a guy who’s not easily impressed.”

“Depends on what I’m looking at.”

“I doubt my study session qualifies as anything all that captivating.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention. You’ve proven to be a pretty effective distraction for me so far.”

I set the pen to my lips, running it along the seam, as I smiled. Eyes scanning for a prop, I swiped up my Juvenile Crime And Justice book, cracked the spine of it and placed it on my chest, only allowing a small bit of cleavage over the top. Head kicked to the side to avoid my scar, I snapped a picture that spanned from my jawline to just below the top of the book, and sent it to him.

He huffed a laugh and I could almost see him shaking his head. “You’re killing me, Sera. Now move the book and send me another one.”

“All you sent me was a video of you climbing a tower.”

“You want to see more? Tell me what you want to see.”

That was easy. I wanted to see more of his eyes—those angry, broody, bedroom eyes capable of seducing without much effort on his part. “Show me your face.”

About a minute later, my phone buzzed and I stared down at his striking blue eyes, as he sat casually atop the crane, smoking a cigarette.

“Now move the book.”

“How do I know you won’t post it somewhere?”

“You don’t. But I won’t.” The sincerity in his voice prodded me further.

“Why?”

He blew what I assumed was a drag of his smoke and sniffed. “Because I’m a selfish and jealous prick. I want it all for myself.”

“To do what with?”

“I’m having a custom rubber fuck doll made in your image.”

A burst of laughter died to a growl in my chest. I moved the book away as he’d asked, and yanked down the tank top to just below my nipple. Fist to my breast, I covered most of my flesh, while flipping him off in a quick shot I snapped from the neck down.

Not even a minute later his quiet chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Now that’s just cold. Why you gotta be such a tease? I’m gonna have to—” His voice cut out briefly, breaking up his response.

“You’re gonna have to what?”

“I got another call. I’ll see you Friday, angel.”

“Talk about a tease.” Call abruptly ended, I tapped the Add button, and saved Ty’s phone number in my contacts.

I shook my head at yet another encounter that only served to heighten my curiosity in the guy. I refused to acknowledge it as anything more than that. His interest in me still made little sense, but I’d begun to see the way he appreciated things that most didn’t bother to notice. The broader perspective that my narrow-minded thinking just couldn’t seem to grasp.

Maybe he saw something I didn’t.