Naughty or Nice

22. Chapter 22

22

CHAPTER 22

Thu, Feb 9 12:13pm

Are you busy on Tuesday night?

My night or your night?

…

Bear with me. I’ll figure out the time zone thing eventually.

And we’ll probably just end up in different time zones as soon as you do. You’re three and a half hours ahead of me. I was planning to get the train to Hamburg on Tuesday morning, but I can go on Monday instead.

Let’s say 5:30 your time, 9 my time. Does that work?

It does. Do I get to see your face?

Sure do, sugar. Can you send me the address of the hotel you’re staying at in Munich?

Arnulfstrasse 4, Maxvorstadt, 80335 Munich

Why?

If I don’t get to take you out to a fancy restaurant for Valentine’s Day, I can at least order dinner for you.

Hmm, I’m pretty rusty at this, but I think you’re supposed to ask me to be your Valentine.

I have a plan. Hold your horses.

Mon, Feb 13 4:29pm

Did you seriously have my hotel room filled with hundreds of flowers and get the staff to spell out “Will you be my Valentine?” in sour candy on the bed?

If you like it, it was me. If not, I have no idea who it was, but I’m going to have words with them about coming onto my girlfriend.

I love it. And I love how well you know me. Thank you. Of course I’ll be your Valentine.

I wish I could be there in person, sugar. I miss you.

I miss you too.

Also… girlfriend?

Are you not my girlfriend? Because I’ve been telling literally everyone I talk to that you are.

This is the first time it’s come up between us. Girlfriend. I like that.

Good, because I don’t think I can stop. I’m considering tattooing it on my forehead.

Don’t do that. The Santa hat will hide it at Christmas. Maybe your cheek?

Perfect. Can’t let anyone assume I’m not taken.

God, the things I’d do to take you right now.

Thanks for making me hard while I’m in a meeting, baby.

Video call me after and I’ll take care of that for you.

Fuck. I’ll be back in my room in around an hour.

I’ll be naked and waiting for you.

RORA

MARCH 7

“ H ey, sugar.”

The second the video on the screen buffers, I know Henry’s had a long day. His face lights up at the sight of me, but his eyes are tired.

I lean closer to the webcam as if that will somehow bridge the gap between Mexico and Canada. “Hi. You look exhausted.”

“I know, I know, I’m old. But I thought you liked that about me,” Henry jokes, his Texas drawl scratchy. I raise an eyebrow until he sighs, the forced smile slipping from his face. “Jet lag is kicking my ass,” he admits, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “But I can handle it. I haven’t seen your face in a couple of days, and I want to spend time with you.”

“I want to spend time with you too, but you need sleep.” I wish I could curl around him and hold him until he drifts off. “What if we both get ready for bed and fall asleep together on camera? I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.”

“Isn’t it too early for you to go to sleep? It’s only eight for you,” Henry says, clearly fighting another yawn .

“Sure, but it’s me. I love sleep.” He still looks unconvinced. “I miss falling asleep with you,” I add, and his face softens.

It’s the truth, just not a truth I usually let myself focus on because if I do, I’m going to crumble. Every day without him somehow feels worse.

We’re both mostly ready for bed, but we brush our teeth and dim the lights. Henry strips off—I don’t even pretend not to watch—and I change into one of the t-shirts he left behind in Wintermore for me. They don’t smell like him anymore, but I may or may not have made a concoction out of a bunch of Bath & Bodyworks Christmas body sprays until I found something that somewhat resembles Henry’s scent: pine, chocolate, candy cane, and cinnamon. I spray it on my pillow every night, which is arguably one of the most insane things I’ve ever done. But Henry bought several bottles of my favorite lotion before he left because he said he’d miss how I smelled, and I’ve watched him use said lotion to get off every couple of days since, so at least we’re on the same level of unhinged.

We both dim the lights, so it’s dark enough to sleep but just bright enough to see each other, and snuggle into our respective beds.

“I miss you so much, baby,” Henry murmurs, pulling his blankets up.

“I miss you too. We’ll figure out a meet-up soon,” I say, but I’m pretty sure Henry was asleep the second his head touched the pillow.

His face relaxes, his breathing evening out. The camera is grainy in the darkness of his room, but I can still see the details of his face: the wrinkles around his eyes, the lines curving around his mouth and nose from that beautiful smile I can’t get enough of, and the freckle below his right eye. He looks so peaceful in sleep, so steady.

I stay awake for hours just watching him breathe, understanding why Henry loves watching me sleep so much.