I did as he said, then I heard clicking on the other end of the line. "What are you doing?"
"Remotely accessing your phone to see what she’s up to." He let out a triumphant snarl a couple minutes later. "I’m in."
"Into what?"
He didn’t need to answer.
The laptop wasn’t showing a regular desktop anymore. It had gone black, but not like with my phone. There was a glow to it, and a command made an appearance.
‘Permit remote access from external IP address?’
"Hit ‘Y.’"
I hit ‘Y.’
Nothing happened.
My heart sank.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No."
His fingers went wild then. Endless tapping in my ear that I swore was going to give me PTSD the next time I heard it. Not exactly helpful considering I was a fucking writer.
I didn’t interrupt, just stayed on the line because I knew he’d have cut the call otherwise.
Another couple sounds rattled in my ear as I took a seat on the toilet and stared blankly around the swanky bathroom.
Then, finally, he hissed, "Got it. When you can get to my apartment, come and bring the laptop with you."
He cut the line, leaving me swearing at the vanity. That was, of course, when a knock sounded on the door.
"Savvie?"
Aidan.
I surged off the seat, opened the door, grabbed his hand, and hauled him inside.
A smirk danced on his lips until he saw that I wasn’t pulling him in here for a quickie.
"What is it?" he demanded, his urgent tone in response to my expression.
I slammed the computer against his chest. "I need you to hide this."
"Who does it belong to?"
Standing on tiptoe, I pressed my lips to his ear. "Star. She told Katina to give it to me."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No. I’m not."
His nostrils flared as he tugged on the hem of his tee, dragged it up—it was a testament to my state of mind that I didn’t ogle his abs—and then hooked it against his waistband, grimacing at the sudden cold.
"I guess I should be grateful you’re wearing boxer briefs for once," I drawled as I watched him zip up his jacket to cover the new ‘smoothness’ of his abdomen.
"Not funny," he sniped.