Page 39 of Chasing Sunsets

I exhale sharply, shifting onto my side. The clock on the nightstand glows past midnight. I should just shut my eyes and let it go. But I don’t.

Instead, I reach for my phone.

My fingers hover over the keyboard. I’m not even sure what I want to say, but the urge to talk to her is stronger than the voicein my head telling me to just go to sleep. So, I go for something simple.

Me: Just wanted to say good night.

I hit Send, then drop the phone on my chest. The screen glows against the dark, and I stare at it, waiting.

Three dots appear almost instantly.

I smirk. Good, she’s awake.

Tabby: It’s late. You should be sleeping.

I huff a quiet laugh, fingers already moving.

Me: I would be if you weren’t in my head.

Tabby: That so?

Me: Hard to sleep when I can still hear you laughing. Still feel you next to me.

There’s a pause. Long enough that I start wondering if I went too far. But then …

Tabby: Good to know I left an impression.

I grin.

Me: You have no idea.

She doesn’t answer right away, and my heart starts doing this stupid, restless thing in my chest. I tap my fingers against my stomach, waiting.

Then, her name pops up again.

Tabby: You’re lying in bed, thinking about me, huh?

Me: Yeah.

Tabby: What exactly are you thinking about?

The shift is subtle but unmistakable. My body reacts before my brain can catch up, heat spreading through my chest, my gut.

I lick my lips, debating for half a second before deciding there’s no point in playing coy.

Me: How soft your skin looked in the sun today. How it would feel under my hands.

I send it before I can second-guess myself. The dots appear immediately.

Tabby: Go on.

I groan. Those two words sending a rush of something sharp and electric through me.

Me: Your turn. If I was next to you right now, what would you do?

She takes longer to answer this time. I stare at the screen, my pulse drumming in my ears. When her reply finally comes, my breath catches.

Tabby: I don’t know. I might have to see what all that talk was about.