Page 72 of Your Play to Call

“Only if you promise to wear that to bed.” His voice is breathy and gravely low.

“As long as you’re gentle. I’m particularly fond of this piece of clothing.”

“Not sure if that’s a promise I can keep,” he jokes before kissing me goodbye.

I thought about whatDexter could possibly want the whole way home, which bothers me. I don’t want him to take up space. I pull out my phone to see his most recent text messages.

Dexter

Will. Come on. Call me.

Emilie is gone this weekend since she had some friends in town. Tripp gave her tickets for the game, outside of the suite, and she’s staying in the city tonight. I’m out on the patio, lighting the outdoor fireplace, when my phone rings.

Dexter.

I roll my eyes even though there’s no one around to notice it. I grab a blanket and put it in my lap before I answer.

“Hello,” I say, like I don’t know it’s him calling.

“Will. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.” For a fleeting second, his voice feels like a warm blanket, like the one I just grabbed.

“I saw.”

“Too busy at the game?”

He couldn’t even get thirty seconds in before bringing up Tripp. The feeling of nostalgia is quickly washed away.

“Iwasbusy,” I scoff and look at my nails. “I just got home. I’m also not sure if I want to talk to you. Why don’t you tell me what you need so we can get this over with?” The blanket is no longer soft on my skin, but itchy. Irritating.

“I have to have a reason to want to talk to you?”

Is he kidding?

“Well, that’s what your first text said. We needed to talk. And yes, kind of. We’ve not been in contact for months. I don’t think it’s a coincidence you’re trying to get a hold of menow.”

“Fine. That’s fair…” His voice drops off. I stay quiet. I wasn’t the one who called him. “I just have been thinking a lot the last few weeks.”

“I’m sure that has nothing to do with Tripp.”

“When did you guys start dating?” he asks. Heat floods my face, and my lips press together, hard.

“Why does that matter?” My voice is flat, and I think I know where he’s going, but I’m going to make him say it.

“Well, he did that whole thing the night of the Super Bowl. It made me wonder, is all.”

There it is.

“Dexter.Youleft me.Youwere the one who decided I wasn’t worth keeping. And if you’re asking if anything was going on when we were together, I’m disappointed. Thought you knew me better than that.”

“I don’t know! I think I fucked this up. I shouldn’t have left. I want to do this right. You and me, how it was always supposed to be.”

Wow. I shake my head in amazement. The audacity of this man.

“It’s a little late for that, Dexter. Don’t you think?”

“It’s late but not too late. Come on, part of you must’ve wondered about this.”

I laugh. That’s the only reaction I have for him that isn’t telling him to fuck off.