“Then you’d have an arm and a leg on top of me if I was there. And here I thought we were just friends.”
“You’re impossible,” I groan, but find myself imagining what it would be like to wake up next to him again. As quickly as the thought skates across my mind, I brush it away. “I’ll make you a deal: I’ll stay on the phone, but if you’re still there when I wake up, we’re never doing this again.”
“That’s a deal no sane man would ever take, especially since I’m looking forward to tomorrow night.”
“What’s tomorrow night?”
“You’ll see.”
I briefly bite my lip. “You know I hate surprises.”
“And you’ll probably hate this one too.”
“Isaac,” I warn.
“Yes, Olivia?” he mocks with an undeniable lightness in his tone I loved so much when we were younger. “Close your eyes for me.” I do as he asks, shifting to get comfortable. “I know you’re not starfishing. Turn onto your left side and slide your hands under the pillow like you used to. I’ll stay on my side of the bed, and you stay on yours.”
“But that means my back is to you.” It comes out a little breathier than it should’ve. “Sorry.”
“Why? You know damn well if I was there I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. In my sleep, I’d reach for you, pulling you to me, just like I did every time you turned in my arms.”
My throat is tight. “Why are you torturing me?” We can’t do this, or at least we shouldn’t. How is it after all this time he can have my emotions twisted up like a damn pretzel?
“I don’t mean to. But, fuck, Livy, not a single day has passed that I haven’t thought about you. Just hearing your voice after seeing all that you’ve accomplished… the ache in my chest that never really left only got worse.”
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, heart breaking all over again.
“Don’t be, but please let me get this out. And stop apologizing. Are you sure you’re not Canadian?” His question has me smiling again. “I know I shouldn't be asking anything of you, but I want you in my life, in whatever way you’ll let me be in yours. So, while I’m sorry if I overstepped, the truth is, if I could go back in time, I would’ve done so many things differently.”
“Same.” It’s the only word I can manage. I turn onto my side, facing an invisible Isaac, reaching to the cold sheets and comforter beside me. He's right—things would be so different, he’d be mine. But that’s not our reality. “If I come for your summit, do you promise you’ll behave?”
“Would I treat you the same as any other attendee while in public? Absolutely. But you and I both know that every time we’re in the same room together, I’ll be imagining tracing every inch of your body with my tongue.”
My core clenches and an involuntary whimper escapes me. I clamp my hand over my mouth even if the damage is already done.
“Tell me to stop.”
I should—really fucking should—but can’t bring myself to do it. I miss everything about him, so damn much. I remove my hand, swallowing thickly. “Don’t stop.” It comes out barely above a whisper.
“Is that the melatonin talking? Or do you want me to tell you about how if I was there, my face would be between your legs for the rest of the night?"
My entire body aches to be touched by him, but if we do this, there’s no coming back from it. And then what? Phone sex for years until one of us is in a relationship with another person? It isn’t as if I have any real future with him. I’d be scratching an itch. He was so much more than just a guy I dated for a few months in college. I lost more than a boyfriend when he left. I lost my best friend. If I’m not careful, it’ll happen again.
Keeping my tone light, I offer, “As amazing as that sounds, your description of a tongue lashing will need to wait for another time. But I’ll stay on the phone with you until you need to get up.”
“You have a deal, gorgeous, except I’m going to stay on until you wake up.”
“You’ll be at work,” I laugh, snuggling the comforter closer.
“I’ll have earbuds in. No one will be the wiser. If I have to take a call, I’ll have to hang up, but I’m not ready to yet.”
“Okay,” I concede. “Good night, Isaac.”
“Night, Livy.”
A few quiet moments pass, and there’s a faint sound of snoring. Shortly after, sleep finds me, and a few hours later I wake to our call no longer active. My stomach sinks, but what did I expect? It’s nearly nine in the morning for him.
But… there are a few texts.
