My thighs clenched.
God, be so for real right now, Adelaide.
“I know.”
“Do you have a reason for calling me this late?”
“You tell me, Ms. Mikael.” His voice darkened. “Did you decide on marrying me or is stalking my Instagram page a part of your nighttime routine?”
No.
The video.
Of him.
Shirtless.
Kill me now.
“It was an accident.” I croaked out.
This had to be the most humiliating moment of anyone’s existence. I liked my ex’s post. Not just any post, but one of him half-naked. This was the new low.
A notification pinged on my phone.
“Then that was also an accident.”
Embarrassment quieted a moment while I clicked on it.
A picture of me on a yacht, fully laughing with my hair blowing in the wind.
Liked by Christian.
Tingling sparks stampeded along the lines of my veins, straight to the irresponsible pump in my chest.
The straps of my nightgown stressed from each mindless pull. Was he lounging in bed like me? Was he shirtless?
Rolling to the side, I desperately fanned my face.
Why was it so freaking hot in here?
“I called to hear your answer,” he croaked. He shuffled around, something on his end creaked.
That’s why he called. This wasn’t a second chance love story. If it ended bad the first time around, it would be highly irresponsible to believe it could work the second time. Not that it meant I was thinking about second chances or anything crazy like that. Whatever familiar feelings arose were reminiscent of the past and I simply missed it. Not him.Never him.
“Do I have a choice other than yes?”
Silence. “It’s good that you know.”
Curdled milk tasted better than the sudden thickened tension between us.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll forward the contract to you.”
“Okay.”
“Sign it by the morning.”
“Sure, whatever.”
