Page 97 of Under Construction

Fresh from the shower, Dennis sprawls across the queen-sized bed in his suite at the estate.

The room feels like an upscale hotel—all cloud-soft Egyptian cotton and memory foam.

Too large, too empty, and definitely lacking one specific site manager.

His phone buzzes and he snatches it up, perhaps too quickly.

All good princess? Need a getaway driver? ;)

Dennis’s lips curve up before he can stop them. He types fast, unreasonably happy to finally get to talk to Chris.

Trapped for the night :(

The response appears instantly, like Chris has been waiting with his thumbs hovering over the keyboard:

Booooo! :( :( :( Oh well. Enjoy that fancy bed while you can

Dennis smiles a sad little smile to himself. He’d rather not, honestly.

He types out his next message with the first thing that comes to his head and hits ‘send’ without a second thought.

Don't wanna :( I love waking up stiff as fuck with my back killing me :(

Bzzz.

That's not from the mattress though ;)

Dennis snorts into the silk duvet, burrowing deeper as the air conditioning chills his skin.

What he wouldn't give to trade this thousand-thread-count nonsense for nothing but Chris's body heat against his back.

It’s too quiet here :( his thumbs spell out on their own.

Dennis’s heart feels just a little fuller with every new message from Chris that comes in fast:

Aww, does someone miss my company? :)

Dennis rolls his eyes but can't fight his growing smile.

Eww don't miss your cooties maybe

Bzzz.

Baby, my cooties haveCOLONized you. They got their own zip code in that ass

Bzzz.

See what I did there? :D

Now Dennis is laughing. Why is Chrissostupid? There's a stupid lump in his throat. Dennis misses Chris's stupid. Maybe because Dennis is stupid. Everything's stupid.

Before he can think better of it, Dennis hits call.

The phone barely manages half a ring before it’s picked up.

"Hey princess," Chris's voice, low and heavy with the day’s end, fills his ear, effortlessly seductive. "Knew you couldn't keep your hands off me."

Dennis’s organs turn liquid at Chris's voice. All the tension from dinner melts away—his lined brow smoothing out, shoulders dropping.

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