Under the table

Abruptly, Alexander's phone started ringing, jolting us out of our intimate moment. I looked over at him, noticing the phone lighting up on the bedside table.

"Maybe you should answer that," I suggested, my voice still slightly breathless from our kisses.

He looked at the phone, then back at me, torn between continuing what we were doing and answering the call.

He let out a string of curses as he snatched up the phone, his frustration evident.

"What is it?" he snapped into the receiver, his gaze still fixed on me as I watched him with curiosity.

The conversation shifted into Italian, and I sat there, feeling left out. I didn't understand a single word, my eyes flicking back and forth between Alexander and his phone, trying to pick up any cues from his facial expressions.