I can’t believe I said that. IGNORE IT. Delete that message, it NEVER happened.
I step backunder the stream.What if I don’t want to ignore it?
Angling the camera just right, I take a picture. Droplets cling to my hair and trail down my chest. But I make sure there’s no trace of the family jewels in the photo before I send it to her.
Then I send one more message before I lose my nerve.
Royal:
Is there anything else you want to see?
Please reply.Please reply.It’s only been two days of serious talking with her. I probably pushed this too far. My phone is quiet, and I turn off the shower and start to dry off.
Leticia:
Well, you definitely are not good at following directions. Should I feel weird that the first pic I’ve gotten of you is naked and in your shower?
Royal:
Well, I’m out of the shower now. Would you feel better if I sent you one while I was wearing clothes?
A message comesthrough at the same time I send that out. It’s an image file.
In the photo, Leticia is lying down. With her phone above her face, a shadow is cast across her jaw and some of her blonde hair, which is fanned out over her shoulders and the bed around her. Those soft, kissable light pink lips are centered in frame, and it’s a perfect look right into her blue eyes. She’s the definition of beauty.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I say to myself while I try to come up with a witty retort, but I don’t have one. And then an idea hits.
Royal:
New game if you’re up for it? Picture for picture. Whatever you’re comfortable with and the first thing that comes to mind when the other person sends.
Leticia takes a minute but responds.
Leticia:
Deal
Unfortunately for her,I’m absolutely going to cheat. With my towel wrapped around my waist, I head to my bedroom. Flicking my wrists, I straighten the covers on my bed and fluff the pillow so it looks inviting and not like I rolled out of it this morning without straightening the sheets.
With the bedroom light’s adjustable controller, I make the space seem warm and cozy, then I send off a picture.
I pull on a pair of boxers and sweatpants before turning on a computer screen and bringing up her room’s camera feed. Leticia is pushing up on her bed and looking around at her room. She raises her phone and takes a picture, I’m guessing of the room facing the camera.
Before the image comes in, I start grabbing food wrappers and unnecessary items off my desk, binning or putting them away appropriately.
Leticia’s photo comes in, and it’s exactly what I expected. A partial tour of her room. And I scour the image, looking for where that camera is hidden. I know it’s there, because I have the feed, but even with my trained eyes, I’m not seeing it.
Frustrated with not being able to figure it out, I start turning on monitors and set them to my winter-blues setting, essentially turning my wall of monitors into a panoramic forest.
I send her another picture, adding a message shortly after.
Royal:
Welcome to my office.
Leticia:
Well, hardly fair. I’m not going down to the kitchen right now. You’ll have to settle for this.
