Page 27 of The Colour of Revenge

A minute passes, and panic creeps in. Did I push too far? My thumb hovers over the keyboard, about to type something pathetic likeSorry, my brain is stupidwhen my phone vibrates in my hand.

She's calling me.

I answer after one ring, not even pretending to play it cool.

"This is a surprise," I say, my grin so wide I probably look like I'm auditioning for a horror movie.

"I shouldn't have called."

Oh no. We are not doing this.

"Disagree. My day is now a million times better."

She laughs, and my stomach swoops like a teenager catching feelings for the first time.

"I don't even have anything I wanted to talk about."

"Then why did you call?"

A breath. A pause. Like she's weighing something heavy. "I wanted to hear your voice."

I pump my fist in the air like an idiot—thankfully, no one is around to witness it.

"Tell me about your day." I aim for casual, like I'm not hanging on to every word, terrified she'll hang up.

We talk for an hour. About nothing, really. She tells me about her latest murderous plans, and I tell her about the soul-crushing monotony of spreadsheets. Mostly, I listen.

"I wish I could see you," I admit after she finishes a story about almost stabbing a guy for chewing too loudly.

A pause. Long enough to make me regret saying it. Then— "Me too."

Warmth floods my chest. My grip tightens around the phone like I could pull her through the signal.

"What are you wearing right now?"

It's a risky move, toeing the line of sounding like a horny teenage boy fishing for nudes.

Silence. Then— "Not much."

I almost swallow my tongue. "What does that mean?"

"I'm getting changed, so I'm in my underwear."

A groan slips from my throat before I can stop it. "That's unfair."

I hear the smile in her voice. "Why?"

I drag a hand down my jaw, trying to shake off the images running rampant in my head. "Because now I have to picture what you look like, and let me tell you, my imagination is going wild."

"Oh really?" The words drip with amusement. "What are you picturing?"

"Tits the size of watermelons. Ass bigger than Kim K's. Waist size zero."

She snorts. "Sounds painful."

"Exactly. You'd topple over at the slightest breeze."

She laughs again, and fuck, I love that sound.