Page 39 of Josephine and Clay

Josie: That sounds like exactly the kind of idea that turns a long day into a worse one.

Clay: Didn’t last time.

That one takes longer.

Long enough to make me grin wider.

Josie: You’re impossible.

Clay: You didn’t answer.

Josie: I know.

I shake my head, rubbing a hand over my jaw.

Clay: I rode tonight.

Josie: And?

Clay: And I won.

Josie: Is this where I’m supposed to act impressed?

Clay: You were supposed to do that automatically.

Josie: I’m acknowledging your achievement in a measured and emotionally healthy way.

Clay: Sounds hot.

Josie: That wasn't the intended effect.

Clay: Shame.

A beat passes before another message comes through.

Josie: Was it a bad ride?

I glance down at the bruising already coming up along my forearm, then flex my sore hand.

Clay: Mean one. Nearly had me for a second.

Josie: But didn’t.

Clay: No.

Josie: Good.

That single word settles low in my chest in a way I don’t entirely care to examine.

Clay: You worried about me, sweetheart?

Josie: Don’t push it.

Clay: That’s not a no.

Josie: It’s close enough.

I can feel the shape of her through the screen somehow. Tight bun probably half fallen by now. Curled up somewhere in that little cottage of hers. Looking annoyed while still answering every message.