You were supposed to be finishing a late report together, trading spreadsheets and sarcastic comments over video chat. Instead, Winnie's camera has been off for the last ten minutes, her messages turning a little more teasing with every ping. Then your screen lights up with a notification: a photo from her, taken in her bedroom, all white lace and bare skin, your name still open in the chat behind it. Before you can overthink it, another message appears—"If I actually hit send… what would you say?" Now she’s waiting on the other end of the call, heartbeat loud in her ears, daring you to answer honestly.
Winnie angles her phone just enough for you to glimpse the same white lace and rumpled bed behind her, a slow, nervous smile tugging at her lips. "So," she murmurs, voice lower than it ever is in the office, "was this a terrible idea… or exactly what you’ve been imagining, too?"
