I send a thumbs up and a smiley face, and only a few seconds pass before my phone rings. Neither of us bothers to say hello.
“Wow. That was…descriptive,” he says.
“I’m so embarrassed. I thought you wanted me to go into detail?”
“I’m glad you did. I think I learned some things about myself from reading this.” He laughs, and that warm feeling floods my chest again and eases my nerves. Talking to Jordan feels like sipping on spiced apple cider while I sit by a fire, wrapped in my favorite blanket. He’s warm, and cozy, andfamiliar. Fun, but in a safe, comfortable way. Which is my favorite kind of fun.
“I think you officially know more about me than anyone else ever has,” I tell him, truthfully.
“I’m honored.”
There’s a long beat of silence, but it isn’t unwelcome. I assume we’re both thinking about my email. I know I am.
A big part of me regrets getting so specific, but an even bigger part is secretly thrilled with the idea that Jordan read those thoughts, and he wasn’t turned off. He’s still here. I haven’t scared him away. If anything, he seems accepting. Maybe even a little bit intrigued.
“Are you going to tell me what you learned?” I ask, coyly. There’s no point in holding back now. It’s open flirting season.
He hums into the phone, and I can practically feel the low vibration caress my skin. “I like the way you started your story at the beginning of a date, like you saw everything leading up to the physical stuff as foreplay.”
I’m not prepared for the way my whole body reacts when he says that word.
“Maybe you should read me your favorite parts.” Who even am I right now?
I don’t know, but Jordan seems to like this version of me because he chuckles and says, “Yeah? I can do that. But only if we get on a video call because I want to see your cheeks get all red when you get hot and bothered by your own words.”
On cue, I feel my face heat. It won’t be my words turning me on, it will be his voice reading them, but either way. “Deal.”
As soon as I hang up, a new video call from him comes through. My face is way too close to the camera, and the shaky video quality leaves much to be desired. On Jordan’s end, I can see his whole torso, and he’s sitting still in the center of the frame, with a paper in his hand.
“Did you actually print it out?” I’m as impressed as I am horrified by that idea. “And do you have your phone on a tripod? Why do you own a tripod? Do you do these kinds of calls a lot?” A sharp pang of jealousy hits. Ireallydon’t like the idea of anyone else getting to be on a call like this with Jordan.
He waits patiently for me to finish my mini-interrogation before he answers. “My phone is propped up against a stack of books on a chair. But no more changing the subject. We’re here to discuss this brilliant piece.” He clears his throat and grabs a pair of reading glasses from the nightstand.
With his beard and now the glasses, he’s got a whole hot, nerdy professor vibe going on, and it’s really working for me. When he starts to read, I hide my face behind my hands, peeking at him through the cracks in my fingers. He looks straight into the camera and smiles. “No hiding now, Sea Shell. You wrote this.” He waves the papers in his hand. “You’re going to own it.”
A huge cheesy grin spreads across my face at his use of my silly nickname. Even though I’m feeling slightly nauseated by the idea that Jordan Wagner is about to read my own spicy email back to me, I am undeniably excited at the prospect.
“I took the liberty of highlighting a few parts.”
“You did not.”
He raises his eyebrows and turns the paper toward the camera so I can see it. Sure enough, there are several lines marked with neon yellow ink. “I’m very studious when I want to be.” That smirk on his lips does delicious things to me.
His eyes return to the paper as he reads, “After a light dinner, where we both avoid gassy foods or anything that will give us bad breath and eat something light and safe, like turkey wraps...Practical. Okay, I’m with you.We’ll do something fun like ice-skating or an arcade. Then we’ll go to a neutral location, maybe a bougie hotel. That way I don’t have to invite him to my place, but I also don’t have to worry about if hewashed his sheets recently. I’m down for an arcade. Making a note to wash my sheets as soon as we hang up.”
I scrunch my nose, but I laugh. He reads through the rest of my email, stopping to discuss every minute detail and ask me questions as he stares into my soul with that intense eye contact of his, as if he truly is studying my response.
“The smell thing is really important to you, huh?”
“Is it not to you?”
“Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it. But I guess not. I’d still want you if your breath smelled like garlic.”
“Ew. Why?”
His voice is tender when he says, “Because you’re you.” Then he continues reading. “He has a playlist of instrumental music because lyrics in songs can be really distracting to me.See? These are the things I need to know.” Jordan smiles and says, “I highlighted this next part. Ahem.When we get going,I’m on all fours and he touches me from behind, maybe while I use a toy on myself, too.”
Yep, he was correct. My face must be a thousand degrees. I bring my hands up to cover my eyes, but Jordan tisks at me. “Uh-uh, no hiding. This is a masterpiece.”
