The bed creaked as he wiggled in it. “Hard as rock. It’s not fair. I could be sleeping in your lap right now.”
“Oh, is that all I am to you? Your personal bed?” I challenged with a smirk.
River’s eyes lit up as he laughed. “Can you really blame me? You’re the only bed I sleep peacefully in.”
As in, the only time he didn’t wake up from nightmares.
I still didn’t have the full story of how Mr. Moore ended up in a coma. River never brought it up, and he was avoiding having another conversation with his mom. Since so much was riding on this weekend, she wasn’t pushing it, but I knew it would come up once it was over.
My boyfriend’s smile relaxed as he brought the camera closer to his face. I leaned forward, legs crossed, so it felt like we were face-to-face and not thousands of miles apart.
“I miss you,” he whispered.
I’ve missed you for years.
The pain in my chest never fully went away, not until I saw River in my apartment again. Now that I had him again, he lit up my life, filling the void he left when we split.
Away from him again, that ache was back. “I miss you too.”
“I’m an idiot for what I did in seventh grade.”
“I can attest to that.” The monotone voice belonged to Carson. “But now that things are fixed, instead of annoying, River’s just sappy.”
River side-eyed him. “I’m not sappy.”
Next thing I saw was a pillow flying across the screen and right to River’s head, knocking him over. Laughs bellowed from Carson, and River sat up with a scowl.
My boyfriend chose not to retaliate so as not to start a pillow fight between the two of them. Carson took that as a win, and it took a lot of convincing to stop River from changing his mind and chucking a pillow at his head. Minutes later, Carson announced he wanted to check out the buffet downstairs before it closed. After asking River if he wanted anything—and getting a no—he left.
After a beat, River grumbled, “I hate this part.”
I raised a brow. “What part?”
“Wanting you, but you’re so far away from me.” River’s bottom lip pushed out in a pout. “Are you wearing your glasses because I love how good you look in them?”
I was wearing them because I had already taken my contacts out, and without them, I couldn’t see more than five feet in front of me. River loving how they fit on me was a happy bonus.
Feeling the heat creeping its way up, I turned my head. “Maybe.”
A heavy-ass sigh. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act shy when I tell you the truth.” He paused. “But you aren’t actually shy at all.”
I bit my bottom lip. “Not with you.”
His lips pressed into a pout, and he adjusted his position on the bed. “Fuck. Maybe we should end the call. Looking at you is torture.”
Watching him through a screen while he was hundreds of miles away wasn’t exactly easy for me either. Vivid, unhelpful thoughts ran through my head of the days leading up to his game.
Memories of us on this very bed. My legs draped over his shoulders. My inability to walk straight the next morning.
I let out a quiet breath as I adjusted myself. “Yeah.”
The words lingered in the air, heavy. I waited for him to end the call, but neither of us made a move.
Seconds later, River shifted. With eyes glued to the screen, phone in hand, I watched him shift on the bed. The sound of the hotel bed creaking was the only thing filling the silence.
