One week later...

BPOV

I get ready for the last night in my studio.

It's early, only eight p.m., but I can't keep my eyes open anymore, can't focus on anything. All my stuff is gone, my clothes shipped off to Miami and I packed up everything else.

I'm alone, on my mattress and a fleece blanket and I'm full circle, ending this chapter the same way I started it.

Curling up in my blanket, I take my phone off the ground and take it out of the charger. The sound of the charging cable hitting the floor is too loud in the empty space.

I miss you, baby...

His words are sweet even on a brightly-lit screen. They warm my heart, and I clutch my phone tightly to my chest. Part of me wants to call him, but if I do we'll end up having phone sex again, and I will be too fucking tired to make my flight at 5:30 tomorrow morning. Besides, I'll spill my guts and tell him — ruin the surprise.

Masen doesn't know I'm flying to Miami tomorrow, a few days before I said I was.

I'm rolling around in bed until I find a good spot and end up on my stomach, elbows almost touching the ground though this dreadful mattress.

Just a little longer, Masen. Can't wait to see you...

I really, really can't wait to hold him again, kiss those damn sinful lips, feel his cock deep inside of me in a place he won't complain about the cold. I snicker and thumb through my phone until I'm staring at him, at the photo he sent me yesterday when he was out at the beach with his dog — adorable creature. Black sunglasses, bare chest and Persephone on a leash. It's like the image makes my insides melt, the way he looks at the camera. I wonder who took it or if he's one of those people who pretends someone is taking their picture while they click a silly remote.

Is it wrong for me to want to kidnap you? Keep you handcuffed in my bed until I'm done with you?

My heart beats a little faster at his words, but I decide to be annoying instead of sexy, although the images that message conjure make me want to call him.

You have handcuffs? — wow.

Come, and find out, little doe.

His words make make me doubt my decision not to have phone sex with him, my fucking boyfriend who's a plane ride away.

It's your job to make me come ;)

Challenge accepted, miss Swan...

Just when I put my head back down on my pillow, my doorbell rings.

It's only twenty past eight, so it's hardly an indecent hour.

I get back out of bed, tugging the blanket along since I turned the heat off around four this afternoon.

"Hello?" I listen through the intercom, cars and outside noises making their way in.

"B, it's me. I need to talk to you."

I'm silent for a beat.

"Bella, please let me in... I'm sorry, let me talk to you."