I smile up at him, remembering the text conversation I had with Mom.
“I’m meeting a friend tonight for a meal. I can swing by with your cell on my way home to get changed after work.”
He pushes some messy hair behind my ear and whispers into it, “I’m going to pretend like I’m not jealous of this mysterious friend.”
I roll my lips together in amusement. “I’d be jealous if I were you.”
“Brat,” he softly scolds, playfully biting down on my earlobe. “Is this friend a guy I need to lay some ground rules with?”
I shudder and clench my thighs together at the sensation of his mouth. “I’m actually heading out with Vesper, the head bartender at Riley’s. We’ve gotten friendly, and she needs some advice after breaking up with her boyfriend.”
Will’s eyes scan my face. “What if I swung by your office with a change of clothes for you? I can grab my phone at the same time and head to the gym.”
I shake my head. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to.” His eyes fall down my body. “Shit. What are you going to wear to work today?” He grins, delighted with himself. “When I carried you out of the office and ruined your panties last night, I wasn’t thinking about this morning.”
I pat his cheek mockingly. “A little like how I research a place before visiting, I’m always prepared with spare panties in my bag and a clean blouse in the bottom drawer of my desk.”
“You’re too good for me.” Will kisses my jaw. “Let me swing by your place and bring you some clothes for tonight.”
“You don’t have a key to my apartment,” I counter.
He shrugs. “Leave one with me and a description of the outfit you want to wear tonight.”
I study him for a beat. “Are acts of service your love language, Mr. Jones?”
He kisses me gently. “When it comes to you? Acts of fucking everything. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I do need you to do one thing for me if you could?”
“Of course.”
He slides his tongue along my bottom lip. “I was scheduled to collaborate on the sponsorship announcement with Repeet this morning, and I’m leaving them hanging. In the absence of my phone, could you do the honors?”
Reaching across to the stool next to me, I pull my door key from my bag and hand it to him. Next, I pick up my phone from the kitchen island and open Will’s Instagram.
He stands, hovering over me, swallowing hard when I’m met with the login screen.
“Did you sign out?” I ask him.
Intense dark eyes gaze back at me. “I updated my password and forgot to tell you.”
“Was someone trying to hack you?”
He shakes his head and comes to stand behind my stool, arms wrapping around me as he rests his hands over mine so we’re both holding the phone.
“Will, what are you doing?” I chuckle.
“Typing in the password,” he whispers.
His thumb clicks the little eye icon in the password box, and when I see the first few letters, I hold my breath, then watch him type out the rest.
Iloveyoudrew!sayyoulovemetoo
“Oh my God.”
It feels like I’m having an out-of-body experience when he hits the login button, and the post from Repeet pops into the feed, Will having already accepted the collaboration.
“You love me?”
