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“One picture.” His smirk is devilish and I feel my pulse hammering. “You know the kind of picture I want.”
“You seriously run away to Chicago the night after we—” I can’t say what we did out loud and I stumble on past it feeling flushed and silly. “—And you have the nerve to ask for—that?”
“It’s my one requirement. And I didn’t run away, I had business.”
“Yeah, sure you did. Well, I am absolutelynotsending you a sexy photo.”
“Then I am absolutelynotputting together all this crap.” He disappears back into the room.
“You’re a pig, you know that?”
“And I want to see you in the bathroom of your work, blushing and feeling filthy, with your shirt pulled up over those lovely tits. Don’t half-ass it either, Katherine.”
I bite my lip and turn on my heel, both furious and turned on. What is with this guy? He disappears for a day after that night and seems like he’s trying to avoid me, but the second he sees me again he’s asking for dirty pictures like a horny teenage boy as if that’s totally sane and rational.
He’s just pushing my buttons. He knows I’ve never done anything like sending nudes before, or at least he’s guessing, and he doesn’t think I’ll do it now. It’s his way of pissing me off and making me all flustered, and damn it, he’s doing a really good job, because I’m all twisted up and sweaty and that’s all thanks to his very simple and very psychotic request.
And yet as I ride in the back seat of an Uber to work, I keep thinking about him alone in the apartment waiting near hisphone. Maybe every time it buzzes, he thinks it’s a message from me and feels a little disappointed when it’s not.
I wonder what he would do if I actually went through with it.
Maybe stroke himself like he did that night.
My head’s in another world at Shady Farms. If Melody notices, she doesn’t say anything. I don’t make any huge mistakes though and finish the morning chores and by the time lunch rolls around, I’m starting to feel like I might be able to forget about Ford for a little while.
Tina drives out, which is sweet of her, and Melody joins us when she’s finished with a new horse that just arrived that morning. “I swear this one wants to kill me,” she says and sits down across from us at the picnic bench. We’re eating outside in the shade since it’s a decent day for once and not impossibly hot.
“You’ll be fine, you’re like the horse whisperer,” Tina says between bites of a big Greek salad. “And anyway, nobody cares about the animals, we need to talk about Kat’s little life change.”
“Wow, okay,” Melody says with a laugh. “I mean, I agree, but that was harsh.”
Tina leans toward me. “I want details. I didn’t drive all the way out here on my lunch break for nothing.”
I look at my hands and sigh. “There’s not a lot to say. We got an apartment—”
“A gorgeous penthouse apartment with two freaking floors,” Melody interrupts. “Don’t downplay it.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with the place, although I did buy a ton of furniture yesterday.”
“Furniture,” Tina says with a sigh. “How domestic. How boring. You’re furnishing your apartment together.”
“Nottogether,” I say and look away from them toward the paddock. “Just me. He gave me his credit card though.”
“That makes more sense,” Tina says.
“That’s not a shock though,” Melody says and gestures with her fork. “I mean, he’s a guy, right? What’s he care what the place looks like? If it were up to him, I bet everything would be gray and black and metal and, like, raw stone and leather, and there’d be pictures of very sweaty, very erotic sports stars on the walls.”
“You have a very particular idea of what men are like,” Tina says deadpan, and I laugh at them.
“He went on a business day trip yesterday,” I say. “We had this deep conversation the night before—” I don’t go into the details since they don’t need to know the actual content of what we said and my heartrate picks up just thinking about it. “—and he dipped out the next morning.”
Tina and Melody exchange a look. “That’s weird, right?” Tina asks. “What was the conversation about?”
“Uh,” I say and squirm a bit.
“Oh, god,” Melody says. “It was about sex, wasn’t it?”
“No, it’s not—”
