On the wall-mirror across from the bed, my reflection stared back at me. Hair came undone from its knot and cascaded down my back. Dead ends glared at me, stiffened and straight, ready to attack at any given moment.
If I could travel back in time, I would tell my aunt that making me CEO was her most vacuous feat.
Boredom interlocked with my insecurities. To which I decided it was time to scour Instagram for Christian’s name.
Christian had the old money aesthetic, which appeared more attractive than I’d like to admit. Buildings. Shoes. Suits. Faceless pictures. The list went on.
My body burned.
The ChristianIremembered had a lithe, lanky body. Cardio was his worst enemy and ten-pound weights were too heavy for him.
This Christian wasnotthe Christian from my memories.
Tall and monstrous build with shorts riding low on his hips.
Christian pummelled through the punching bag with intense ferocity. My stomach flipped watching his muscles ripple with each hit. His abs clenched with each hit, droplets of sweat dripping down. Brown hair clung to his forehead. When the video reached the eight second mark, he paused on the punching and stopped the bag with both his hands.His chest heaved with each panting breath. Then turned his head to look at the camera.
My heart thundered against my chest.
He’s unbelievably hot.
Despite knowing the pure, hazel colour of his eyes or the way he stared down on me. The nerves and the anxiety didn’t allow a good look at him. Here though, my lips salivated at his unprecedented glow up.
Looking up from the screen, I crossed my leg over the other.
My skin wasflushed.
Rosy hues gravitated from the tops of my cheeks to right above my breasts. Heat seared through my cheek. I bet he knew exactly how to use his hands, his fingers. Christian had the body that demanded a female’s attention.
I knew I should’ve lowered the temperature before bed.
My phone started ringing.
Unknown caller.
Brows furrowed. “Hello?”
Rough, gentle, and low. The recognizable voice forced butterflies with broken wings to fly south to the centre of my core.
“And here I thought you’d still have my number saved after all these years.”
My fingers sunk into the bedsheet before I—very stupidly—threw my phone across the bed. Eyes desperately hitched onto every corner of the room. I didn’t summon him, right?
Staring down at the vicious block, hoping it would disintegrate on its own and leave me to wallow in shame.
“You there?” His voice travelled through the speaker.
Deep breaths, Addie. It’s just a call.
With another glance at the mirror and trembling hands, I smoothed my hair before grabbing the torture device.
“What do you want, Mr. Hayes?”
“I’ll take that as we’re still being formal.”
“It’s late.”
He chuckled.
