Ivanov:What did you mean?
Now there was a question. How had they gone from a bizarre lift encounter to a fake relationship Jonah was now imagining could be real?
It’s not real. And he doesn’t want it to be. It’s just sex.
Amazing sex. Mind-blowing sex. The kind that stayed with Jonah long after it was over.
He let his thumbs fly free over his phone screen again.
Jonah:She thinks you’re my boyfriend
Ivanov:I know this. We told her so together.
Jonah:So…
Ivanov:So what? Do you want me to come, Jonah Gray?
Jonah:I want to know what you’ll be doing if you don’t.
Ivanov:Why?
Jonah:I don’t know.
Sacha didn’t reply straight away. Head spinning, Jonah dropped his phone into a drawer and ducked out of his office, gaze roaming as always, searching for Sacha.
And as almost always, he was nowhere in sight. But he was definitely close. Jonah could feel it.
Fool. You can feel no such thing.
Jonah filled his coffee mug and helped himself to a Christmas-spiced flapjack from the box that had appeared that morning—an actual, tangible clue that Sacha was in the building.
He took it back to his office and opened the drawer he’d dumped his phone in. A message lit up the screen, too long for the preview to make sense.
Jonah swiped it open.
Ivanov:If I am not with you I will be where I always am, at home.
Jonah:Alone?
Ivanov:Yes.
Jonah:Why?
Ivanov:Because that is how I live.
Jonah:But it’s Christmas
Ivanov:I am aware. It is the same day every year, no?
Jonah:You shouldn’t be alone.
Ivanov:It does not mean to me what it does to you.
Jonah:I don’t believe you. You like my tree. You stare at it all the time. I saw you.
Ivanov:Yes, it was your Christmas tree I was staring at all weekend.
Jonah:Are you being sarcastic?