Page 24 of Reunion

I balked at the question because we rarely spoke of anything other than perfunctory details these days. But I supposed I could play nice. For exes, we got along well enough, especially for working within the same company. He’d been the one to get me in the door, after all, and he couldn’t help that he was a tool any more than I could help that I’d allowed him be a tool. At least I’d seen the light.

Cole: It was nice. Thanks for asking.

Jason:Did you sleep with anyone there?

My head shot up, and I stared out my open door, wondering if he was standing nearby and fucking with me for some reason. But there was only Mindy in the cubicle about five feet from my door, the ethereal blue top of her head like a tuft of cotton candy as she stared down at her laptop.

I started to type a reply text when another message came in:

Dane:How’s your ass today?

I’d gotten this same message daily since leaving Vintage Ridge. My first response had been a rather clinical recounting of the progression of bruising, but as those began to fade—and they’d been minor in the first place—I’d downgraded to gif responses, which usually set off a gif war that lasted the rest of the day. It was stupid and juvenile and pretty much the highlight of my day.

Mindy glanced up at me as I started laughing, her brows knitting in a concerned frown.

“Everything all right?”

“Oh yeah, just…irony,” I replied as I tapped my screen. To Dane, I fired off a gif of a chimpanzee spanking some guy wearing a towel. To Jason, I sent:I can’t see how that’s any of your business.

“Word.” Mindy gave me a knowing nod. “Want me to break out some Alanis? I’ve got a whole playlist with an irony theme.”

“I knew I liked you,” I told her with a grin. “Crank it up.”

10

Cole

The Metrotech headquarters were housed in a sleek, sweeping glass building, one of the taller ones in downtown Vintage Ridge, and one I’d remembered witnessing being built as a kid. I was given a tasteful, if nondescript, temporary office on the design floor.

Twisting in the ergonomic chair away from my laptop, I grimaced as I gazed out the window and onto the streets below where leaves swirled and collected in the gutters. I’d preemptively put in applications at several other companies back in Bensonville already, because despite what Blaine had told me, and despite the nice lead designer title I held, I knew what usually happened when companies were bought out. I’d also called an old headhunter friend who’d helped me find temp jobs when I was traveling overseas, and she was optimistic and reassuring, telling me there were plenty of jobs floating around if I’d be okay with contract work for a while, which I was. I didn’t come cheap, and in the time I’d been with HealthCloud, I’d busted my ass to organize the department better, create new brand manuals, refresh the logo mark and identity system, and generally bring the company’s image from the early 2000s into the current decade.

With a sigh, I turned back to my screen and clicked through slides for the presentation I’d given to Metrotech’s in-house design team earlier, then uploaded them to the company’s server. I’d been asked to sit in on several other meetings later today, which I supposed was promising, but I was still leery since I’d only found out about the merger days before it was to take place. And there was the fact that HealthCloud had already let several other staff members go the same day Blaine came into my office. Now, I considered the title and salary bump I’d been given three months ago as a kind of good-willed gesture they were hoping would allow them to cut me loose on friendly terms. I should’ve guessed.

Once the files uploaded, I pulled out my phone, letting my thumb hover over the keys while I mentally composed and discarded a dozen different messages to Dane. On the one hand, we’d tied off our weekend in a neat, uncomplicated bow, with the vague but probably unlikely possibility of a repeat over the Thanksgiving holiday. On the other, I had a strong desire to tug that bow and see it used to bind my wrists. Preferably securing me to a headboard while Dane went to town on me.

I’m in town. Let’s go out.

Lame.

I’m in town. Can I see you again?

Better.

In town, let’s hook up.

Lame, part 2.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

Too soon.

I finally settled on playful:

Cole:Do you make house calls? My ass is looking awfully pale.

Since I was staying with my parents, I was hopeful my message would turn into an invitation to his place. I wondered if we’d open up his drawers of kink again. I kind of hoped so. I started losing myself in a fantasy involving a pair of handcuffs I’d seen. Maybe even throw in the nipple clamps. Imagining Dane teasing me with the cool metal clamps before they bit down on my nipples? Yeah, I could get into that. Maybe we wouldn’t even make it that far, though. Maybe he’d just bend me over the couch and shove my pants down to my ankles. I liked the idea of that, too.

I stared at the open message window after hitting Send, waiting to see the little bubbles that meant he was texting a reply. They appeared, then disappeared, reappeared, and then disappeared again. The hazy arousal of my fantasy faded after a few more moments of no reply, and when a rap sounded on my door, I tucked my phone away and pulled the power cord from my laptop so I could bring it with me. Blaine had said he’d swing by to take me to the next meeting, which was several floors up in the labyrinthine complex. Dane would have to wait.