Sparks - Wendy Higgins Page 0,56

all around her. Beth was gone, I assumed she had an early morning flight. That was a relief. I stood quietly and pulled on my sweater and slipper socks. Glancing at the twin bed I saw that Cheryl was here too. I tip-toed out of the room to the kitchen and made a pod of coffee with vanilla creamer. Then I sat in the giant window sill with my steaming mug and stared out at the red-bricked alleyway and gray skies.

My phone whistled, and disappointment filled me. So much for not getting called in. But when I opened the text my breath stuck in my throat. It was a selfie of Shawn with an intense, sad frown.

Ah, fuck my life. My whole body filled with warm, gooey deliciousness. Every ounce of will-power threatened to leave my body as I stared at that face.

You shouldn’t be writing me, Shawn. I meant what I said.

I know you did. And that’s what I need to tell you. It’s over.

I paused, reading those words again, goosebumps rising.

Over, over? I asked.

Yes. I told her I can’t do this anymore. She agreed to sit down and work out details when I get home. But I need to make sure you feel this. You feel the connection, don’t you? he texted. It’s not just me, right? Please tell me you do. Please tell me it’s not all in my mind.

A giant lump filled my throat. I feel it.

He sent back the heart eyes emoji like a freaking teenager, and I pressed my lips together. I couldn’t believe this.

I can’t stop thinking about you, he said.

I typed quickly, giving myself permission. I can’t stop thinking about you either.

I don’t want to do any of this without you.

Despite the lump in my throat, I smiled, my conscience free for the first time since we’d met. And in that moment, I gave myself permission to be with him. To be by his side as he did the hard things and worked through this break-up. I would deal with any remnants of guilt later.

Okay, I texted. I’m here.

To prove it, I took a picture of my coffee mug resting on my knee with the window view and sent it.

You have no idea how much I’ve missed your daily drink pics, he said. Is that the view from your apartment?

And just like that, we were back.

It’s crazy how quickly our relationship morphed. I stopped holding back. I knew that from this point on, everything would work out as it should. Natalie would be okay. She would find a new man who was stable and willing to stay put. She and Shawn would work out a schedule for him to communicate regularly with Bennett. Shawn would get to come to the U.S. twice a year, and his parents could bring Bennett with them once a year when they went to Japan to visit. We’d talked it all out.

As for Shawn and me, we hadn’t broached what would happen between us yet, but there was an excitement of adventure and possibility. It was now a countdown of when he’d come back. Three more nights in Japan. He was officially losing a lot of sleep by talking to me so late at night. He’d started going straight to his hotel after work and napping for a couple hours, then getting up for dinner and drinks until I was off for the day. He required freakishly small amounts of sleep.

Tonight, I was snuggled in a downy comforter in Providence, Rhode Island. I’d been turned on all day and was feeling very squirmy as I listened to him tell a story about his childhood and what a rascal he’d been, but so cute that his tough grandmother had fibbed to keep him out of trouble.

My giggle was low and sultry.

“How you doing over there?” he asked.

“I’m feeling like I might have to pull out my little friend later,” I admitted, feeling shy. He’d become obsessed with wanting to know whenever I used her.

He let out a guttural sound. “Later?”

“Yeah,” I said, aching.

“Why not now?”

I bit my lip as my skin started to tingle with a rush of blood. “Now?”

“Right now,” he said, his voice matching mine. “So I can listen.”

This was new territory. “I’ve never…I’m nervous.” My voice was breathy.

“Don’t be nervous.” His voice had softened and lowered into something soothing and sexy. “It’s just me.”

“What do I do?” I asked, feeling stupid.

“You just touch yourself, and we can talk.”

“And what will you be doing? The talking?”

“I