I hang up, stop at the kitchen, and drop my head on the laminate countertop.
I have no clue what I’m going to do. I’m not tutoring anyone because we’re on winter break. I make good tips at the restaurant but not enough to cover a rent hike. Cleaning is going okay, but I’m not doing it as much because of the break. My business is doing okay, but I’m not making hundreds.
It’s the holidays, so surely someone will hire me. They have to. I’ll drop to my knees and beg. That’s how desperate I am.
“Fuck you, Jerry!”
Just as I push off the counter, my phone vibrates in my hand. When I look at the screen, I’m stunned.
Sylas: I need a favor
I have no idea what he could want from me, but that doesn’t stop my heart from racing or the stupid flutters in my stomach from erupting. My gaze dips to the tattoo on my arm, my regret now tenfold.
My fingers twitch to reply, but I stop myself. Would I look desperate if I answered him right away? I shouldn’t, but curiosity gets the better of me.
Me: Not sure if I should be offended you didn’t greet me or happy you’re getting straight to the point
Sylas: You want me to greet you?
Me: Obviously! Where are your manners?
Sylas: Left them somewhere in the corner of Salt where I made you come
My jaw drops, and a disbelieving laugh slips past my mouth. We haven’t talked about it much, and I figured we’d continued to ignore it.
A towel is the only thing wrapped around my body, but it feels like I’m wearing thick layers because I’m burning up thinking of that night.
Sylas: I could make it happen again. Just say the word
Do I want it to happen again? Do I want that? Should I say something?No. Stop being horny. You have bigger issues than thinking about orgasms.
Me: What’s the favor?
Sylas: Hi, Anna. How are you doing?
My lips stretch in a way that makes me anxious. Why am I smiling?
Me: Hi, Sylas. I’m okay. How are you?
Sylas: Better now that you’ve answered
It’s so corny but I’m smiling so big, my cheeks ache.
Me: Stop
Sylas: Stop what?
Me: Whatever it is you’re doing
Sylas: What am I doing?
Me: You know exactly what
Sylas: I don’t. Tell me
Me: You’re trying to be cute or whatever because you need a favor
Sylas: Or whatever
