My phone rang as I was getting into my pyjamas. Fumbling around on my bed, I snatched it up, relief spreading through me when Low’s name flashed on the screen. I’d hoped he would be at my place when I got home from work and was disappointed when he hadn’t been waiting for me. I’d wanted to be the one to comfort him—to touch him and kiss him until we’d both forgotten about the things we’d seen that afternoon. When I didn’t hear from him all afternoon, I’d started conjuring up worst-case scenarios—most involved him driving off into the sunset and never looking back.

“Hey,” I said quietly.

“Hey yourself.”

“You okay?” I sat on the edge of my bed, curling my feet up underneath me. I rubbed at my chest. I couldn’t shake the pain there. Lijah thrashing in agony was something I wouldn’t be able to forget any time soon.

“I don’t know. I’m...sad, I guess.” His gravelled voice gave me the impression he’d been crying. Or trying hard not to. “It didn’t hit me until I went to her stall tonight, and she wasn’t there.” His voice cracked, and my heart broke a little bit more.

“I wish you’d told me you were going. I would have met you. You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.”

There was a muffled noise I couldn’t identify and then I heard him sniff. “I feel so guilty.”

A sharpness stabbed through my chest and my hand fisted the blankets on the bed. The pain in his voice broke my heart. Why hadn’t he come here so I could hold him? Words seemed so insignificant. “It was an accident, Low. There’s no blame to be placed. No one did anything to feel guilty about.”

“But if I hadn’t entered her in the race—”

“Stop. You did nothing wrong. Don’t let yourself go there.” If it hadn’t been Lijah, then it would have been another horse. No one could have predicted this. Lijah had been one hundred percent healthy this morning. The track was in good condition, and injuries as severe as Lijah’s were rare in flat racing. There was no reason not to enter her. But he already knew all that, in his head. It was just his broken heart talking.

Silence hung between us.

“Yeah, I guess.” There was more shuffling on Low’s end and the low drone of his TV in the background. “So, what are you doing anyway? I can’t keep talking about Lijah. It’s too depressing. Distract me.”

What would distract him? I glanced around my bedroom, looking for inspiration. The lilac walls, painted by the landlord, had seemed hideous when I’d first moved in. But now I thought they were fitting, seeing as lilac seemed to be my theme colour these days. I’d pulled the gauzy white curtains open, letting the night-time breeze in, sounds from the street below filtering up. Like the rest of my apartment, it was undecorated and sparsely furnished. My eyes landed on a wet towel in a pile on the floor where I’d dropped it after I’d spent an hour soaking in the bath.

“I just got out of the bath. I smell like strawberries now.”

“Damn, I should have called earlier.” There was another muffled sound from Low’s end.

“What was that?”

“That was me, trying not to imagine you naked.”

I laughed. “Did you succeed?”

“Not even a little bit.”

I snorted.

“Reese?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me more about your strawberry-scented bath.”

I cracked up laughing. “You’re such a guy.”

“Okay, okay, just talk to me about anything then.” A combination of sweetness and heat edged his voice, and a little of the weight on my heart lifted. I shifted back onto the bed, so I could lean against the headboard, settling in amongst the mountain of pillows.

“Sure.” I grabbed my makeup remover from my bedside table and wiped beneath my eyes, knowing I had to have smeared mascara there during my bath. My head had been so preoccupied by thoughts of Low, I hadn’t thought to scrub my face while I’d been in there. “So what are you doing?”

“Watching The Notebook.”

My fingers froze, and I sat up straight. “Bullshit.”

“No bulls or shit from where I’m sitting. There are some geese on a lake by the look of it, though?”

“You’re seriously watching it!” I laughed as I finished cleaning my face and threw the wipe in the little bin next to my bed.

“That’s what I said. I thought we could watch it together. Well, over the phone, together. You are watching it, right?”

“Sure I am,” I lied. I scanned the bed for the TV remote, finding it on the floor and half falling out of bed trying to grab it. When I came back up, I pointed it at the little TV in the corner of my bedroom, flicking through the stations until I found the movie. Noah and Allie were out on a rowboat in the middle of a lake.

“I didn’t take you for a chick flick kinda guy.” Trying to get comfortable, I plumped my pillows and settled back, nestling the phone between my chin and my shoulder.

“I’m not normally. But Rachel McAdams…”

“Yeah, she’s hot, I get it.”

“You think?”

“You sound surprised. She’s gorgeous. I’m straight, not blind.”

Low’s voice went husky. “Just give me a minute.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re picturing me and her together, aren’t you?”

“No. I was picturing you, me, and her in a threesome actually,” he admitted. He sounded a touch guilty, like he’d been busted with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes at you right now.” It was a half-hearted rebuke. The idea was pretty hot after all.

“I deserve that—oh look, it’s raining on poor Noah and Allie. How surprising.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me.

“Ssssshhhh! This is the best bit!” I hissed, watching Noah and Allie climb out of their little rowboat in the pouring rain.

“It wasn’t over! It still isn’t over!” Low said into the phone, at exactly the same time Noah said it on my screen.

“You liar!” I yelled. “You have seen this!”

He chuckled. “Of course I have, Reese, everyone on this earth has seen this movie.”

I sighed.

“What?” Low asked.

“I love this part. That kiss is so hot.”

We were both silent, watching as Noah drew Allie roughly to his chest and kissed the ever-loving fuck out of her. My heart flickered a little. Movie or not, they had so much chemistry, it sizzled. It was impossible not to get caught up in their lust and love for each other.

“I want to kiss you like that,” Low said, voice deep, as Noah picked Allie up and walked her back through his door and pressed her up against the wall.

Heat rose in me. “You already did. Once.”

“I know. But I was interrupted. And it kills me to think about that. I want to do those things, and so much more to you, every damn day. Not being able to is torture.” He paused. “Being on the end of this phone right now is torture.”

I sucked in a breath, my orgasm drought suddenly all I could think of. I hadn’t felt the need to get as lost lately, not since Low had told me about his possible diagnosis. Those treasured moments of escape from my problems hadn’t been necessary, when my thoughts were so focussed on his dramas. But with things slowly heating up between us these last few days, I was beginning to think of sex and orgasms for more reasons than as a mind eraser.

“I know. Come over.” It stopped short of being a demand, but not by much.

Low groaned. “Don’t say things like that, babe. I’m already struggling for self-control around you.”

There was another ruffling from his end as I squeezed my legs together, trying to find relief for the ache building in my core.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

“Bed.”

“Wearing PJs? What kind?”

I thought about lying for a second and saying I had on slinky black lingerie. But that wasn’t me and the PJs I’d put on weren’t all that bad. “A camisole and boxer shorts.”

I regretted the words as soon as I heard them. He probably didn’t even know what a camisole was, and wearing men’s style underwear, even if they did have a delicate flower print and lace trim, didn’t sound all that attractive.

“Take them off.”

My eyes widened, until they had nothing on dinner plates. My lips parted and my voice stuttered. “Wh-why?”

Oh God, what a dumb thing to say. I knew why. My heart thumped triple time and butterflies erupted in my belly. I wished I’d had a glass of wine before he called.

“I want to tell you all the things I want to do to you.”

“You enjoy torturing us both, don’t you?”

“Maybe. Are you naked yet?”

“I need to be naked to hear what you want to do with me?” Curse my tendency to babble when I was nervous.

“Not with you. To you. And yes, you need to be naked. In a minute, you’ll want to be. Trust me.” His voice exuded confidence, like there wasn’t a doubt in his mind I might say no to this. He was right, I wasn’t going to, but two could play at that game.

“I’ll take them off, if you take off what you’re wearing.”

“I’m already naked, babe.”

Touché. Of course he was. He was better at this game than I was.

“Lift your top over your head.”

The spaghetti straps of my silky camisole were already falling off one shoulder as if they were totally down for this. “Okay,” I whispered.

I put the phone on the bed for a second and reached down, lifting the lace and silk top over my head. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and the warm spring air from the open window caressed my skin. My nipples hardened as I picked up the phone again.

“Did you do it? Are you topless?” Low asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

I thought I heard Low swallow. “I remember what your breasts look like, Reese. They’re amazing. Are you touching them?”

“No,” I said truthfully, although I wanted to. My nipples ached, the sensitive tips standing to attention, waiting to be touched.

“Run your hands over them, the same way I did that night in the alley.”

Feeling a bit ridiculous, but also wanting, I put the phone on speaker and did as he said. Darts of pleasure shot from my breasts downwards, and I let out a little moan.

“Make more of those noises, Reese. I want to hear them all.”

I pinched my nipple, and another involuntary gasp left my mouth.

“Close your eyes and imagine my hands on you. My tongue in your mouth and my fingers squeezing those pink nipples of yours...”

I squirmed and sank lower beneath the covers of my bed.

“Now take your shorts off, Reese. You need to be naked.”

I didn’t hesitate this time. My nipples mourned the loss of my hands as I ran my fingers down my stomach and slipped them beneath the waistband of my boxers. I slid them down my legs and used my toes to push them off. They got lost somewhere in the blankets, leaving me bare, damp, and aching. My hands returned to my breasts without instruction from him. “I’m naked.”

“Good,” he breathed. “Use one hand to reach down. But do it slow.”

I did as he asked. One hand ran over my nipple while the other palmed its way down my body and over the short line of hair on my pubic bone. I rested my hand there for a moment, wanting him to give me further instructions before continuing, but I ached so bad. It had been so long since I’d last come, and the built-up frustration of not having Low here was killing me. I dipped one finger through the wetness of my folds.

“I’m wet.” My cheeks heated as the words burnt my tongue; my breaths grew quick, my clit throbbing in earnest.

Low groaned and I heard the ruffling noise come from his end again. “Damn. I want to be there, Reese. I want to be the one touching you,” he said desperately.

“Me too.” My finger moved along my slit again, and I moaned into the phone. “I need more.”

“Use your fingers, baby. Rub yourself.” His breaths were as short and sharp as mine were.

I ran my fingers over the little nub, eager for the friction they created.

“Use your other hand as well.”

Two fingers dipped inside and I groaned at the sensation. I’d had plenty of practice at making myself come, but having Low’s voice in my ear heightened my excitement. My clit pulsed while I pumped my fingers in and out, grazing my G-spot each time. I knew my own body well. It wouldn’t take long to get off. We breathed in unison for a long moment. “I’m close, Low. But you...”

“Me too. Just listening to you is more than enough for me.”

I imagined him stroking himself, his cock slipping back and forth in his hand as he stretched out naked on his bed. It was enough to set me over the edge. My pussy clenched and I moaned like a porn star into the phone. It was over the top, but since he wasn’t there to see me come, I thought he deserved to at least hear the audio.

My fingers slid from my body as the aftershocks reverberated through me. Rolling over, I buried my face in the pillow, enjoying the way every muscle in my body contracted, then relaxed.

“Fuck.” Low groaned into the phone as he no doubt found his own climax. My core gave an extra, excited little clench at the sound of him getting off.

His breath went ragged as I lay there, coming down from my high. The blankets had slipped down around my thighs and I pulled them back up. Then I leant over to the bedside table and grabbed a stack of Post-it notes.

“What are you doing?” Low sounded lazy. I’d bet good money my visual of him lounging on his bed was spot-on.

“I’m writing you another positive.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was so chilled out he was practically drawling. “What is it?”

“It says you have the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah? Anything else?”

“That you can turn me on without even being in the room.”

“You’d better stop talking like that or I’ll write you a Post-it note of your own. Hearing you come like that, knowing you’re touching yourself…”

I stared up at the ceiling, happiness sweeping over me. “It was thinking of you touching yourself that got me over the line.”

Low just groaned. “Stop, you’re killing me.”

“Okay, okay,” I said playfully, as I turned the speaker off my phone and tucked it between my ear and the pillow. I tried to clamp down my excitement. This was how I wanted things to be with him. Light and fun and sexy. We could have had this all along, if only he’d stopped holding back. But maybe now that we’d crossed one of his self-imposed borders…maybe now he was ready.

I snuggled back down into my bed, my skin still singing every place the sheets touched me. “Let’s just watch the movie then.”

“Good plan. And, Reese?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to thank Ryan Gosling for his visual assistance tonight.”