She’d felt drunk on him last night, her body betraying her at every turn. The way his fingers had barely brushed her arm, how her breath had stuttered, how her thighs had pressed together against the ache low in her belly.
She had wanted him.
She still wanted him.
And now? Now, she had his number.
He hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t demanded anything. Just slipped the piece of paper into her palm, let his fingers linger against hers a second too long, and left it up to her.
No pressure. No expectations.
Just the possibility of something.
And wasn’t that the scariest part?
Savannah ran her thumb over the paper still sitting on her nightstand, tracing the numbers she had already memorized. The promise of it made her stomach twist, made something deep inside her flicker to life.
All she had to do was call.
Just one call.
One call to see if this was real.
One call to see if that fire between them could finally, finally burn.
She exhaled sharply, grabbing her phone before she could overthink it.
Before she could talk herself out of it.
Chase answered on the second ring, his voice still rough from sleep. That deep, gravelly sound that sent a jolt of warmth straight down her spine.
"Didn’t think you’d actually call," he murmured, voice laced with something warm, teasing, like he was smiling through the words.
Savannah rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her heart thudding againsther ribs. "Neither did I."
A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, deep and smooth. "Well, I like surprises."
"That so?" She teased.
"Mmhmm." His voice was slow, unhurried, like he was savoring the moment. "And hearing your voice first thing in the morning? Might be my favorite surprise yet."
Her stomach flipped, heat curling in her core.
Damn him.
She bit her lip, trying to keep her voice steady. "Didn’t know you were so easily impressed."
"Oh, sweetheart, you underestimate yourself." His voice dropped lower, a lazy drawl wrapping around each syllable like silk. "I could listen to you talk all damn day."
A shiver ran down her spine. "You always this smooth in the morning?"
"Only when I’m talking to you."
Her breath caught. She saw a glimpse of the Chase she remembered—the one who could disarm her with a single glance, who was smooth, witty, flirty, and could leave her hanging on to just a few words. The kind of man who knew exactly what he was doing, and worse, knew exactly how to get under her skin.
"You busy today?" he asked, voice shifting—casual, but expectant, like he already knew the answer and was just waiting for her to admit it.
She hesitated. She had things to do. Errands, check in with work, a whole list of things she should be focusing on.
