“You need to knock it off!” she hisses at him and turns around to watch the briefing.
“Dang, she’s really mad at me.”
“Stay strong, stay strong. Do not look at him. Do not look at . . .”
“Bless me Father for I have sinned. It’s been two days since my last confession.” Carisi says to the priest in the confessional.
“Only two days?”
“Yeah uh . . . I’ve been having impure thoughts about my ex that I can’t seem to shake. And I also can’t seem to . . .” he falters, not wanting to admit what he feels most guilty about.
She sits in front of her computer, trying not to cry. They had been broken up for less than a week – only since Monday actually – but it is time – she’s gotta do this.
“Don’t get sentimental now – it is definitely not the time for that. Stay strong, Amanda,” she whispers to herself, pressing her palms into the desk. After a shrug of her shoulders, attempting to shake him off, she breathes out and says firmly, “Okay, let’s do this.”
She pulls up her shared picture folder – the one where every picture she receives on her phone is automatically uploaded. In other words, all the images of his sexts. All the pictures he’s sent to her of his dick. In full living color. On a large screen. This is going to be hard . . .
“Go on, son. You can’t seem to what?”
“I can’t seem to stop sending her pictures of my dick.”
Carisi doesn’t see it but the priest’s eyebrows rise involuntarily.
“Okay.” Amanda gets through the first one just fine. Click. Delete. It had been shot in poor lighting anyway. Not much to see there.
Looking at the second one she murmurs a soft ‘yes’ to herself. Poor angle. Out of focus. Delete. “I can do this.”
And then the third one . . .
Ah yes, the third one.
She remembers the first night they had danced together, backing up into him, feeling him press into her as he wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling her in . . . Mmmmm
Delete. Delete. Delete.
Okay, number three. Done. But oh what a night that had been! Their first kiss . . . their first . . .
She clears her throat.
Oh yes. Now that is cute. Too cute. She shouldn’t be smiling.
She shakes her head to clear the happy memories. There are too many of those still lingering for her liking.
Oh no. This one only makes her think of his fingers slipping over her hips and finding their way to her very lower back as she arches against him, his hands now pressing her into him firmly as he . . .
Damn, the way this is going she’s going to need a shower when she’s all done. But right now she needs some wine.
She gets up and pads to the kitchen, searching for her favorite red and finding it. Dolcetto di Ovada, the Italian wine he introduced her to, a great pairing with the pasta he had liked to make for her. Just holding the bottle in her hands makes her want to cry. So much for not getting sentimental. She pours herself a glass, wipes away a stray tear, and heads back to the computer.
After what had seemed like hours and the deletion of forty-seven – yes FORTY-SEVEN – pictures of Carisi’s dick, she stumbles into bed, a little drunk, a lot horny, and all cried out. It had been an exhausting trip down memory lane. She is ready to sleep it off.
She is just putting her cell phone down on the nightstand when the notification light blinks blue. With bleary eyes she instinctively unlocks her phone and grimaces at what she sees there.
“Carisi!” she screams in frustration and throws the phone onto the bed.
But he is not there to hear her - she is alone.
The next day the briefing is about to start and the two of them are slightly uncomfortable around each other like they had been since Monday, trying their best to hide it. As she stands up from her desk he gives her one of those smiles. One of those naughty boy smiles. She rolls her eyes at him in return.
Her phone vibrates. A quick glance tells her it’s a text – or more likely a sext - from him. Oh no, not again . . .
She tells him to knock it off as they take their places for the briefing and spends the entire time summoning up the willpower not to look. She just can’t take the sight of his dick anymore. It’s too painful.
“Did you get my text?” Carisi asks her when they head back to their desks after the briefing. He doesn’t even bother to go back to his, just plants himself at hers, drawing up a chair.
“You mean your sext?” she snaps.
“No Rollins, I mean my TEXT.” He pauses before saying very quietly, and a little sheepishly, “I sent the sext last night.”
“I didn’t look at it,” she says turning bright red and refusing to look at him.
“I see,” he says. And stays.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she snaps. “At your own desk? You know, where you can’t exactly whip your dick out, take a cute little picture of it, and send it to me at any given time cause the squad room is a public place and all?”
“Hey, I’m sorry about all that. I couldn’t help myself.”
“You couldn’t help yourself?” she says astounded, finally looking at him.
“You just said you found it cute.”
“What? No I didn’t –”
“Aw, c’mon! You know you find –”
“I do not!” she protests.
“Yeah, you do . . . he’s adorable. You said it yourself that one time when we –”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. Go away.”
“Read the text first.”
“Fine, I’ll ask you now then.”
“Ask me what?”
“Can we get back together? I miss you something fierce.”
Her heart lurches and tears spring to her eyes. God she missed him, too. Silently she nods - she doesn’t want to speak lest the tears spill over. When did she become this way? How in the world did this man draw all her emotions to the surface like this?
“Is that a yes?”
“Yeah,” she says quietly to hide the crack in her voice.
He stands up and looks around furtively. Noticing that no one is paying any attention to either of them, he plants a quick kiss on the top of her head and briskly walks back to his desk.
“Hey!” she exclaims.
“What?” he responds with mock innocence, spreading his arms wide.
She just groans and goes back to work.
“I’m going to go take a leak.”
Why is he telling her this?
“That’s nice,” she says, barely glancing up from her computer.
He comes up closer to her desk and makes a big show of having his phone in his hands. “I said I’m going to go see a man about a horse.”
She looks up at him, finally getting it. “Oh, so you’re comparing it to a horse now?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“I bet you would,” he says with a wicked grin and a twirls the phone. He catches it with a quick snap and points at her with it in his hand. “You know, Rollins, the Men’s Room is not a public place.”
“No, it’s not,” she agrees and smiles brightly, eagerly anticipating his next move. She raises her eyebrows seductively. “So go.”
And that’s his cue to leave.
She picks up working where she left off, but it doesn’t take long before the notification comes through. A text from Carisi. Glancing around to make sure no one else can see first, she unlocks her phone. A wicked smile plays about her lips as she looks at what he’s sent her.
Oh, how she’s missed this.