Marcus
Her voice disappears and the line goes quiet, but I don't hang up.
I stand frozen in the middle of my apartment, one hand gripping my phone, the other now clenched uselessly at my side. My pulse is thrumming in my ears, drowning out the rest of the world. I stare out the floor-to-ceiling window, but I don't see the skyline. I only see her.
Rebecca. Unraveling.
For me.
The woman who once called me a walking red flag. Now, she's on the other end of this line, undressing.
Because of me.
My lips twitch into a slow, almost disbelieving smile. I think I'm half in love with her already.
I pull in a slow breath. "Still there?" I ask, my voice low, careful.
A rustle.
Then a sigh.
"Yeah."
I sit on the edge of the bed, my tone softer now. "What are you wearing?"
A breathy laugh. "You already know the answer to that."
