Out of Reach

One first real date, one boyfriend on the other end of a video call, and every trick in the book for making sure "long-distance" never turns into "left out."

I write romance for a living, which means I've spent a decade coming up with clever reasons two people can't just be happy and uncomplicated together. Apparently I needed the practice. Danny and I have Boston — the same city, the same time zone, the easy luxury of falling asleep in the same bed without checking a flight schedule first. Leo has Minneapolis, half the country away and one majorly inconvenient time difference, and a habit of insisting he's totally fine watching the two of us build a life from a phone screen. He is lying. I'm fairly sure Danny knows it too.

So when Danny finally asks me on a real date — the kind with a reservation and a dress code — I almost say no, because doing something so normal without the person who makes us feel like us seems like cheating. Turns out Danny had already thought of that. By the time our appetizers arrive, Leo's on speakerphone hearing about my day. By the time we make it back to Danny's place, Leo's watching from a monitor propped against the headboard, a wickedly clever gift from him is already out of the box, and two days of pent-up wanting catches up with all three of us at once. What follows is the filthiest night Danny and I have ever had without Leo actually in the room — and somewhere in the middle of it, with Danny's mouth on my skin and Leo's voice in my ear from half a country away, I say something out loud that I hadn't planned on telling either one of them yet.

Out of Reach is the slow-burn, no-angst, scorching hot continuation of Reach for Me, about loving two people in two time zones and figuring out that distance only wins if you let it. There are no cliffhangers in this series — but Danny, Marie, and Leo aren't finished finding their way to each other.