The message disappears, and I almost wonder if I imagined it.
I’d rather be your friend than spend another fifteen years not speaking.
Truthfully, I don’t know if either of us could handle being friends. You said yourself that if things were different, we’d be married.
I startle as his name appears in bold letters with an incoming call. It’s incredibly stupid, but I click the little green button and answer, “We’re playing with fire.”
“I know, but we’re not kids anymore, and I’m tired of pretending you don’t exist. You’re going to be here in a few months, and we’ll probably see each other at the presidential inauguration, so why not at least try to be friends?”
I chew on my lip as I consider it. “Okay, but we’ll need rules. Boundaries.”
“I’m all ears.” There’s a smile in his voice that gives me the same butterflies I had when we first met. “What do you have in mind?”
“No gifts. If the wrong person sees it, we could be right back in the tabloid gossip.” The last thing I need is for hashtags like ‘barris’ to continue trending.
“Christmas and your birthday are coming up, and you expect me to not get you anything?”
“What I want, I can’t have, so there’s no point.”Fuck, why did I just say that?
“And what do you want, Livy?” he purrs, and I hate how it sends a shiver down my arms and legs, making my nipples pebble.
I swallow thickly. “It doesn’t matter. No gifts. Also, we need to limit our communication to late in the evening. The last thing either of us needs is to get a text in the middle of a meeting. It would raise questions.”
“Counter-offer, you change my name in your phone, and I do the same.”
“Actually, that’s a good idea no matter when we talk.” I put him on speaker as I change the contact information. “I’m putting you in as Ian… Damn, I can’t find a good synonym for Banks.” I quickly type it into my search browser. “Okay, what about Slope, Ridge, or”—I bark out a laugh—“Mound. Please let me use Mound! Ian Mound has a nice ring to it.”
“Seriously, Olivia?” he chuckles. “You couldn’t just use alliteration or something? You may as well have used Ian Hump.”
“Fine, you win!” I teasingly huff, unable to wipe the smile off my face. “Ian Hump it is.” My eyes grow heavy from the melatonin, and I blink a few times, sighing quietly to myself, “I suppose it beats Daddy Isaac.”
His voice is low and a little raspy as he asks, “What did you just say?”
“Ian Hump. It works, right?” I snuggle into bed, letting out a yawn. “What are you putting for my name?”
“Olivia.” His tone is a little more growly, almost a command, but I just chalk it up to him being tired with our time difference.
“You can’t keep my name as Olivia or Livy, it’ll raise questions.”
“Fine, but you should put my name in as Daddy Isaac.”
Another yawn threatens, but I keep it at bay.Wait… did he hear me call him Daddy?I quickly pivot to help him come up with something. “What about Olive? Olive… Harrison? No one will ever know!”
“It’ll take a real detective to figure that one out,” he deadpans. “I’ll come up with something later. Any other rules I should be aware of?”
“I don’t know. Do you have any?”
“No.”
“You don’t have a single rule?” My question comes out a little slurred.
“Liv, baby, are you drunk?” he chuckles.
Did he just call me baby?
Maybe I imagined it?
Or maybe Iamdrunk?
