Millie still danced her heart out. “Mmm-hmm. I haven’t told him all about Jimin, and he said he wanted to know. So...” Her little shoulders lifted in a shrug as if that was reason enough for him to come over.
And maybe it was for her but certainly not for me.
Since he’d left, the only conversations we’d had were work-related. There were no midnight texts or calls.
I’d been more than happy with that.
That stupid encounter in the kitchen had seriously messed with me.
And I didn’t want him in my head or dreams any more than he already was.
I didn’t want to imagine those hands pinning me down while he whispered filthy things in my ear. Didn’t need the image in my head of his crooked smile before he disappeared between my thighs.
And I really didn’t need to wonder how delicious the stretch would be when he…
“Kaaaate?” Millie’s tone was filled with as much annoyance as a six-year-old could inject. “Can we?”
“I don’t know if he’s back from his trip yet.”
She gave me the look. The one I simply couldn’t say no to. Making those eyes impossibly big, she fluttered her lashes and stared at me. “Can you call him and find out? Please?”
“Sure,” I sighed.
Against my better judgment, I went to my room to grab my phone.
Millie followed, of course.
With an internal groan, I plopped onto the bed and dialed his number. Gaze on my girl’s hopeful face, I listened to the endless ringing on the other side.
Please don’t answer.
At least then I wouldn’t be the one to disappoint Millie.
“I don’t think he’s there, Bug.” I gave her a sad smile and started to pull the phone from my ear.
“Hello.” His gravelly voice filtered through the line followed by an unhealthy amount of heavy breathing.
Was he...? Ah, shit.
“Did I…interrupt something?”
More heavy breathing that only fueled those forbidden images already stuck in my mind. It was all too easy to imagine him driving into some starstruck woman while he casually held the phone to his ear.
A sharp pang of something I refused to acknowledge as jealousy or hurt stabbed through my ribs. I didn’t care how Tristan got his dick wet as long as he was discreet about it.
Liar, a little voice inside my head whispered. I promptly told it to screw off.
“I’ll let you get back to whatever”—or whoever—“you were doing.”
My thumb hovered over the red button when his voice sounded again. “Kate... Don’t hang up.”
“You’re busy,” I said, trying my best to erase the image I’d so vividly painted a few moments ago. “And it’s not important.”
“Ah, Kitty Kat,” His voice was more even now. “How can you say that? Of course a call from my wife is important.”
My silly heart did that annoying pitter-patter thing. I hated that Tristan Blake was the first man to do this to me. My heart hadn’t beat so fast and so loud when I’d been with Bryce.
And I believed myself to be in love with him.
