“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 the wedding

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.

Maya: A bit funny, come on.

Maya: If I give you my two euros, will you forgive me?

Conor: No, but I’ll use them to buy a gag and mittens, since you are unable to behave.

Maya: You really don’t know the price of things, uh.

Maya: Anyway, where are you?

Conor: Check your phone

Maya: Oooh. When did you share your location?

Conor: You were asleep.

Maya: Cute! What else did you do to my nubile body while I was unconscious?

Conor: Check the sole of your right foot.

Maya: Wow.

Maya: I can’t believe I actually expected to find something.

Maya: Well played, Harkness.

Conor: It’s what you get.

Conor: Trouble.

It takes two days for the eruption to die down, three for flights to become available, five for me to head back with the dogs. Good times, good food, good company. I miss Conor, but not in the way I used to. Less like a hole in my chest, and more of a temporary ache in my joints.