Page 60 of You Make Me Feel
I press the call button next to her name before I think it through, a low breath escaping my lips as I wait for her to answer.
“So you’ve stopped ignoring me now?” she asks, her voice teasing.
“Autumn was here, being nosey,” I tell her. “But she’s gone now. How was the mainland?”
“It was good. So many beautiful books.” There’s a faint rustle, like she’s curling up on her sofa, her voice warm and close. “They were demonstrating their holiday season releases and I wanted all of them. You should have seen some of the spredges.”
“Spredges?” I say, frowning. “What the hell is that?”
“Sprayed edges. Some of them were to die for. I wanted to order everything.” She sounds breathless and it makes me smile.
She carries on talking about a dragon and a cinnamon roll and a Scottish café, and for a moment I forget about the game. I lean back in the couch, closing my eyes as I listen to her warm voice. She sounds happy. Light. It does something to me, hearing her like that. Makes me want to keep her in the moment a little longer before I remind us both of what this is.
“And then I came home to your delivery,” she says. “It looks beautiful, but it’ll get ruined if I run in it.”
My lips curl. That’s the plan.
“Just wear it tomorrow night,” I tell her. My body tightens thinking about her in it.
“I will,” she breathes.
“Good. You’re gonna look so pretty for me when I chase you.” I clear my throat. “And after tonight, I won’t becontacting you. You’ll get a message from me at dusk tomorrow. It’ll tell you where to be. What to do. Until then, silence. No texts, no calls.”
Because if she wants this, I want to make it good for her. Like the book. I want to give her the full experience.
While I can.
There’s a tiny pause, the sound of her breathing quick and uneven. “Okay,” she whispers.
“Good,” I murmur. “Now try to get some rest.”
“I will.”
“And you remember what to do if you want it to stop?” Because we’ve covered this too. In our messages, during our phone calls. I’m not leaving a damn thing up to chance.
She trusts me with this. And I want to deserve her trust.
“Yes,” she breathes. “I yell my secret word.”
“Which is?”
“Pomegranate.” She starts to laugh, and fuck it, I chuckle too.
“As loud as you can. I don’t care if you have to scream it. And once you do, everything stops. No questions, no hesitation.” I pause, letting the quiet hum between us. “You’re in control here. I need you to know that.”
“I know,” she says softly. “I trust you.”
Damn if that doesn’t hit me right between the ribs.
“And if you change your mind before tomorrow night, just send me a message. There’ll be no hard feelings.” I’ll fucking hate it. But I’ll understand.
“I won’t change my mind.” There’s a strength to her words. “But why won’t you call me tomorrow?” she adds, like she’s going to miss hearing my voice.
Because I want you to experience everything you can. Because I want you to feel like you’ve never felt before. “It’ll be better this way,” I promise.
“Okay,” she says, sounding so trusting it makes my chest tighten.
We stay like that for a long moment, the silence weighted and electric. Then I make myself break out of the comfortable silence. “Go to bed, Sadie. Rest up.”
