Page 138 of Problematic Summer Romance

“What?”

“That you used to reply to every single one of my texts.” I take another bite. Let the sweetness of the almond paste linger on my tongue. “Is it normal for senior management to work this much?”

“It’s an active deal period,” he says, a broken record. I wait, patient, until he sighs, “No.”

“Do you still have people snooping around all your messages and giving you digests?”

“Sometimes.” Another sigh. “Yeah.”

“Good to know. Then I won’t send you nudes or lewd sonnets. I’d rather not sexually harass your underpaid, under-benefited assistants.”

“They are extremely well paid, and you know very well that we give good health insurance.” He rubs his eyes for a while, until I’m sure he must see bright spots. “I could work on this,” he says. Then corrects himself. “Iwillwork on this.”

“Hm?”

“Being more available. Being present. Senior management load.”

I fight back a yawn. “I fully plan to make every second away from me miserable for you.”

A breathless exhale that’s not quite laughter. “It already is.”

“No, I mean…Even more.” The room is warm, and the sugar makes me sluggish. “You’ll be shocked at how amazing it is, to be in a relationship with me. I’m so interesting and fun and not at all unhinged. I’ll blow your mind.” I burrow into him. “And your body, of course.”

“Christ.” His hand is at the back of my head. I let myself drift into the back-and-forth of his thumb, the temperature of his skin.

“You made me come about ten times. I owe you.”

“How about we don’t keep count?”

“Said Mr. Numbers Guy, the investment banker.”

“I’m not an investment banker, and you are a physicist.”

“I am. I can and will pull my weight,” I reassure him.

“If you insist,” he says. He’s smiling, I can hear it in the accent, slightly thicker than usual. I could open my eyes to make sure, but this is so nice. Dozing off. Feeling close to him. His breath and mine. Making up for three years’ unshared air.

“I do. And you said you wanted me to be in charge.”

A hand settles on my hip. Perfect weight, perfect heat. “Such a menace,” he whispers, and there is none of the usual teasing in it, the faux hint of reproach. His voice is emotion stacked on emotion, and while I can’t name any with certainty, I still feel my lips pull upward, and find that I’m too sleepy to keep them straight.

After thewedding

Chapter 42

Maya:If I had a euro for every time I fell asleep after a sexual encounter with you and then woke up to find that you’d left for another country, I’d have two euros.

Maya:Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice

Conor:Not funny, Maya

Maya:Omg. Sir?? My text was chosen from the slush pile??

Maya:I’m picturing those sperm cells that race up the Fallopian tubes to reach the egg.

Maya:Oh, no. Wrong simile? Did it activate your favorite kink? Did it turn you on during a meeting with your legal team?

Conor:Again, not funny.

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