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  Only every time I talk to her, I’m less and less sure I do.

  22

  Tom

  Molly’s house in the Los Altos hills is ridiculously huge.

  She was so proud when she bought it. It was the biggest purchase she’d ever made when Mollab hit it big, and it also allowed her to hide when it all got too much.

  I’ve been here a few times, but never to stay.

  Bridget.

  I’m not sure what to do about her. Part of me wishes she was here with me. She’d get a kick out of this place.

  It’s huge, with I’m not sure how many bedrooms. The only instruction I have is to stay out of Molly’s room, but the rest of the house is mine for the week. Including the heated pool.

  Mark will be here in an instant when I tell him I’m staying.

  But it’s not his company I want.

  Her expression when she laid eyes on Brad. The way she flicked her hair over her shoulder.

  The memory slams into me, and my heart sinks all over again.

  I’m in love with Bridget, but am I really what she wants? I thought I’d found the right woman, but I can’t let myself be second best.

  What I need right now is a hot shower and some gaming before I crash for the night.

  I head up the hallway and go into the first bedroom I find. There’s a queen-size bed and an adjoining bathroom, which is everything I need for tonight.

  After a hot shower, I throw on a pair of boxers and climb into bed. I’ve still got thoughts of Bridget rolling around and need a distraction.

  Brad.

  I like the guy, but Bridget’s attachment to him pisses me off. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t. And he’ll be in her life for a long time. The man’s her boss, no matter if he’s working on a different site.

  Brad.

  Shit.

  That’s it.

  Maybe that’s the key to what I’ve been looking for.

  I grab my laptop and open it up. Molly’s secret code sits on a notepad still, and I stare at it for a moment. What if Brad’s name is represented by the first four digits? Or maybe eight?

  After reaching for my bag, I pull out a notebook. Using the computer is all well and good, but sometimes I have to write things down to better comprehend them.

  I copy the first four digits and write B R A D above them.

  Under that, I copy out the rest of the string.

  I try and pick out anything I can match to the letters I have, but it doesn’t make any sense.

  This is going to take a while. Theoretically, all I need to do is work out the pattern, but is it really that straightforward? Or has Molly slipped a little extra into this?

  Wait.

  I stare at it. Is it really that simple?

  Working on a hunch, I take the first five digits and start again.

  21814. Brad.

  It takes a while to work through the whole string, and I write it out over and over again, trying to get the right combination.

  Until it makes sense.

  Molly’s a freaking genius. Or insanely lazy. Her heart’s been on her sleeve all these years right under our noses, and none of us had a clue.

  Brad it was always you. 21814920231191122312519251521.

  Each letter was simply represented by the number of its position in the alphabet. That’s it. There’s no complicated cypher.

  Molly’s message was in every version of Aeon from the start. Her simple little note to Brad has been on display to millions of people and anyone who set their mind to it would have been able to work it out in time.

  She’d buried herself in her software and her company, all the while telling the world how she felt.

  I’m doing something similar to Bridget—hiding behind work while not facing up to my feelings.

  I should have given Bridget a chance.

  Her reaction to Brad hurt me, but love doesn’t just up and disappear because you can’t have someone. I knew that, and I never gave her a chance.

  My stomach aches at the thought. Now I’ve hurt her in return, and is there any coming back from that?

  I love her. And maybe she feels the same way. I’d know by now if I’d only listened to her.

  Sliding my notepad to the side, I go back to the laptop. I can send her a message and tell her I want to talk when we get back. Maybe we can get back on track. I need to trust her.

  When I load Facebook, there’s a message notification. It’s suddenly hard to swallow as a large lump forms in my throat. Bridget.

  Bridget: Hi.

  I stare at the screen. Me: Hi.

  Bridget: Molly told me you were in San Jose. I was hoping we could talk.

  My lips twitch. Me: Sure.

  Bridget: I hate this stupid computer. See the lengths I go to just to talk to you. But I have a lot to say and didn’t want to try and type it all on my phone. I managed to find the power adapter so you should praise me.

  I laugh. Me: I appreciate your sacrifice.

  Bridget: I miss you, Tom. I’m so sorry for everything. I’m not in love with Brad. That’s in the past. He’s not the one I want. I want you. Only you.

  Regret washes over me. I should have let her talk to me these past few days, but it was too hard. It’s always been easier to shut down and shut out the hurt. Bridget deserves better.

  My hands hover over the keyboard. Me: I guess I’m just scared.

  The cursor blinks for the longest time. It’s probably seconds, but it feels like hours before the little dots appear again.

  Bridget: I know, and I don’t blame you for being hesitant. But I really wish you were here so we could pick up where we left off. ;)

  My eyebrows shoot up of their own accord. Is that a wink emoji I see?

  Me: Really? What do you think we’d have done?

  Bridget: You have a very talented tongue. I wanted it elsewhere.

  Me: Where? I grin.

  Bridget: Do you really want me to spell it out?

  I laugh, clapping my hands together. Me: Yes. I really want you to spell it out. I want to know what you wanted me to do to you.

  I love her. Yes, it hurt to be reminded of how she once fell for Brad, but I don’t have any reason to think she’s lying. Besides, she’s setting aside her hatred of computers to reach out to me.

  Bridget: You’re going to make me suffer. Aren’t you?

  Me: Typing it puts you way out of your comfort zone.

  Bridget: True. There’s a pause. I want you to go down on me. I want your tongue between my legs.

  My stomach clenches. She wants me, and I’m not joking about her being out of her comfort zone. Typing this takes guts. She’s putting herself on the line here.

  The thought of doing what she wants makes me hard.

  So fucking hard.

  Me: I wish you were here. Molly’s house is so big and I’m all alone. And I promise you that you’ll have my tongue when I get back.

  For a moment, I hesitate before hitting the enter key. A quick tap, and I close my eyes. Her red hair falling down around her shoulders, the way her skin tasted. Her nipples, hardening in my mouth. She liked what I did to her.

  And I was so scared I’d screw it up.

  I open my eyes to her message.

  Bridget: I’ll be waiting. Maybe naked. I want your hands on me again. I want you to stroke my breasts. I want your mouth all over my body.

  Holy fuck. Me: Bridget, are you sure you want to do this? Talking dirty on the Internet, I mean.

  Bridget: I’m in bed, using this damn computer I hate, and all I want is you. I’m sick of the awkwardness between us, and I just want to be upfront with you.

  I swallow hard. Me: Do you want to talk?

  Bridget: I’m comfortable here. I took the laptop to bed with me. I’ve got no idea where my phone is.

  Laughing, I shake my head. That’s my Bridget. My Bridget.

  Me: You’re in bed with your laptop? Me too. I’m staying at Molly’s place.

  Bridget: What’s Molly’s
house like? Apart from big.

  Me: I’ll take some photos. I think you’d like it. Maybe we can take a trip here together sometime.

  Bridget: I wish I was there with you now.

  The thought of her cuddled up in bed fills me with warmth. I do miss her.

  Me: I wish you were too. Then maybe I could touch you. I want your hands on me. I pause. And more than anything, I want to taste you.

  I want her. I want all of her. And I’m so far away.

  Me: I’m so sorry, Bridget. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I left without talking this through.

  The screen goes still. I’ve made such a big mistake, but I couldn’t see past my hurt. She was hurting too and she needed me. Just as I need her.

  I’m so in love with her that my pain overrode everything.

  I should have taken the time to listen

  Bridget: I’m okay. We’re talking now. I know what a big heart you have, and I hurt you. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.

  Heat flashes through me. I want her right now. No holding back. I type before I let my brain interfere. Me: I know you will. I want to be with you. I want you to be mine, and to never let you go again.

  Bridget: That’s what I want too. How long until you get back?

  Smacking my head against the pillow, I sigh. Me: I should be back at the end of the week. It depends on how things go here.

  Bridget: So, I’ve got a week of touching myself, thinking about you.

  My mouth falls open. Me: Is that what you’ve been doing?

  Bridget: It’s what I’m doing now. If you were here, I’d be up for playing with you.

  Me: Fuck

  Bridget: Ha ha I made you swear.

  I grin. She’s a temptress at the best of times, but the thought of her lying in her bed touching herself … I drop my hand to my boxers. My cock’s hard just picturing her propped up on her pillows, her red hair spread in a wild tangle.

  Me: I’m not sure if we can continue this conversation one-handed.

  Bridget: Does that mean you’re doing the same as me?

  Me: I’m so fucking hard for you right now.

  There’s a pause.

  Bridget: Are you missing my mouth?

  Holy … Me: Yes. Do you want to do video chat?

  Bridget: This laptop is really old. I don’t know if it’ll work. Besides, this is kinda hot.

  I grin. Me: You know this is how people used to have cybersex.

  Bridget: Really? A lot of one-handed typing went on back then, didn’t it?

  Laughing, I nod, even though she can’t see me. Me: I’m sure it did. At least I know you’re not catfishing me. I even know what you look like naked.

  Bridget: Did you like what you saw? I mean, you can lie if you have to.

  This. This is why I’m so crazy about her. She’s so fierce, and she’s funny, and I don’t know how I’ve done without her.

  Me: You’re so beautiful. I love everything about you. Brad was a fool, and I’m the luckiest man alive to have you in my life.

  Bridget: You’re not supposed to make me cry, Jarvis. Not when I’m trying to masturbate. It makes things messy.

  I laugh again. This is what she does. She breaks down my defenses with her openness. It just makes me feel more guilty for not believing her.

  Me: Don’t cry. But tell me what you’re doing.

  Bridget: You’re secretly such a dirty boy, and I love it.

  Me: You’re all I think about. I wish I could watch you touch yourself.

  Bridget: When you come back, you can watch all you like, but I’d prefer you to help.

  Of all the … I close my eyes for a moment, picturing her lying back, her hair splayed over the pillow. I’ve seen her face when she comes. I’ve seen that moment when her orgasm hit and she cried out. Because of me.

  Bridget: Are you touching yourself?

  I open my eyes to see her message. Gripping my cock, I shift the laptop so I can still type.

  Me: Yes.

  Bridget: Imagine I’m there, sucking you.

  I stroke slowly. It’s easy to imagine when I’ve seen her doing it.

  Bridget: I’m going to imagine you’re here going down on me.

  Stroking faster, I tap out a response. Me: I’m thinking about how good your mouth feels on me. I might go a bit quiet.

  Bridget: I might have a similar issue. Only I don’t know what your mouth would feel like. But I can pretend.

  I let out a moan at the thought of her in bed, rubbing her clit as she thinks of me. It’s so fucking hot.

  I’m the luckiest man on the planet, and I nearly screwed everything up. But she still wants me, and I want her more than anything.

  I close my eyes as my body tenses. All I can see is her head moving up and down, her hot, wet mouth covering me, and I’m lost in emotion as I let go. My orgasm hits hard. I let out a loud moan, and I’m so glad I’m alone in the house.

  Bridget.

  Opening my eyes, I look down. I’m the guy who jerks off in the shower from time to time, not in a place where I could make a mess. This is so unlike me. I let out a chuckle and wipe my hand on the sheet.

  Me: I made a mess. I type with my clean hand.

  Bridget: So did I.

  I grin. Me: I want to make a mess with you next time.

  Bridget: I want that too. Come home soon xxx

  Should I tell her? I need to. If we’re going to move forward, we have to be honest with each other. Not that I’m lying to her; I just haven’t told her how little experience I actually have with sex.

  Me: There’s something I probably need to tell you. I was going to tell you the other night before we were interrupted.

  My chest thuds as I watch the screen. Do I just tell her, or do I wait for her to respond?

  Bridget: Are you going to tell me you’re secretly married or something? Ha ha

  I run my tongue over my lips. Maybe it’ll be easier to tell her over here than face-to- face. But what if she thinks there’s something wrong with me? I couldn’t bear to see her expression.

  Me: Nothing like that. It’s just …

  I swallow hard.

  Me: That’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to sex.

  23

  Bridget

  I stare at the screen.

  What’s he trying to tell me? He’s a virgin?

  I’ve just had this huge emotional moment with him when he’s so far away, and he’s not with me to wrap my arms around him.

  More than anything, I miss him right now.

  Tom belongs here.

  Tom: Bridget? Have I scared you off?

  I reach for the laptop. The scent of my orgasm still fills the air, and I have to go and clean up, but first, Tom needs to know how I feel.

  Me: No. Give me a minute to sort myself out and I’ll find my phone. I think we need to talk.

  Stumbling from the bed, I head to the bathroom. After going to the toilet and washing my hands, I look at myself in the mirror. Tonight didn’t go the way I expected, but even I can see the hope in my face.

  That night—when we were interrupted by Brad, Tom and I had been intimate. It would have been his first time if the whole stupid thing with Brad hadn’t happened.

  My phone.

  I need to hear his voice. Tell him out loud how I’m feeling so he knows he has something to come home to.

  A life with me.

  After tonight, we can put the past behind us and move forward together. If only we were in the same city …

  Walking into the living room, I head to the sofa. I’m sure this was where I saw my phone last.

  I roll my eyes when I hear the Super Mario tune from under a cushion, but I can’t wipe the grin from my face as I lift the cushion and pick up my mobile.

  “Hi,” I say softly.

  “Hi. Are you okay?” Tom’s tone is full of concern.

  “I’m fine. Pretty damn good, actually. Just wish you were here.”

  I make my way back to the bedroom,
flopping down onto the bed.

  “Me too. Especially after that. I didn’t think we’d get so carried away.”

  I giggle. “Me either. I don’t have any regrets though.” I lick my lips. “About that last thing you said …”

  “Sorry to lay it on you like that. I was going to tell you the other night, but we got distracted.”

  “I get that. And it’s okay. It’s not like I have any problem with it.”

  “I didn’t think you would. I just wanted you to know.”

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “I still wish you were here to do everything we just talked about.”

  “Me too. More than anything. I’ll be back soon.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip. Memories of the brief time we had together before Brad turned up flood through my system. Tom’s lips on my breasts, and the way he flicked his tongue across my puckered nipple …

  My body tightens in response, as if ready for his touch.

  “I can’t wait,” I whisper. “I want to be with you so bad. I’m going to jump your bones when you get back.”

  There’s silence for a moment. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.”

  “Even with what I told you?”

  I roll onto my side, clutching my phone to my ear. “I’m sad the other night got screwed up. It was something special. And it will be when you come home to me.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear. I didn’t want you to freak out.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because a man my age isn’t usually a virgin.”

  Rolling onto my back, I stare at the ceiling. “It doesn’t change how I feel. I want you, Tom. And only you.”

  “I want you too. I did from the moment we met.”

  I chuckle, clutching the phone closer. “Really?”

  “You had this look in your eyes. I didn’t know at that stage that you didn’t like Molly, but there was this defiance about you. Like you were determined to prove something. It was hot.”

  “I thought you were pretty hot too. In a geeky way.”

  He laughs. “It’s the glasses, right? I’ve been told that before.”

  “Maybe. The whole package does it for me.”