Page 190 of The Bluffing Game

I can’t stop myself from smiling. I’m immediately wondering if I’m making two huge mistakes tonight. But I don’t just want to text with her. I want to hear her voice. I want to hear her laugh. Before I think about it for too long, I dial her number. It rings a couple of times, and she answers breathlessly.

“Hello?”

“Hi. What are you doing?” Lounging on my bed, I push my pillow behind my back and lean against my headboard.

I wonder if she’s in bed as well. That would make this call romantic. Not that I want it to be.

“I’m speaking to you on the phone. What do you think?”

“What were you doing before I called you?”

“Why do you want to know? Is this twenty questions?”

I hear the sounds of traffic on her end, and I wonder if she’s walking. Hopefully not back home from a date.

“Have you set up your profile already?” I ask before I can stop myself, grabbing the remote control to turn on the TV so she can hear something in my background as well.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I was about to, but then you called me.”

“I see.” Relief floods through me as I realize there’s no possible way she can be on a date. “So, what are you up to then?” I ask casually, flicking channels like I’m not invested in the conversation.

“Walking on the moon with Mickey Mouse,” she says sarcastically.

I can’t help but smile. I stop on a channel showing a rerun of The King of Queens and turn the volume up a bit.

“Why? Where are you? It just got loud.”

“I’m somewhere cool,” I say, deliberately being vague.

If she’s not going to tell me, I’m not going to tell her.

“Okay, Pinocchio. You don’t know the meaning of cool.” She giggles, and I wonder if she’s drunk.

“I’ll have you know, I am the very definition of it.”

“Sure you are. Maybe cool as in cold to the touch.”

“Is that your way of saying you want to touch me?”

“Hell to the no.”

“Sad. My heart might never heal from that slight.”

I laugh and then reach over to grab my water. I take a sip and turn my gaze to look around my large, luxurious bedroom. It’s my favorite room in the house, but it’s all gray and black, and it needs a woman’s touch. I wonder what Sage would think of the room. I bet she’d hate it.

“Dalton, why were you texting me?”

“Do you not want me to text you?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I was just curious why.”

“I was just trying to figure out how your first weeks of work are going, if you were enjoying yourself.”

“Enjoying myself at work?” She bursts out laughing. “Now, I don’t know if you want me to lie and say it’s the best job I’ve ever had in my life, but⁠—”

“What do you mean, that would be a lie? It’s not the best job you’ve ever had in your life?” I tease.

She laughs again. “Dalton, what is going on? Are you trying to ruin my good mood?”