Bubbles pop up like she’s responding, then go away. Seconds later, the phone rings and her smiling face lights up the screen in the dusk of my room. I swipe to answer and tap the speaker button. Before I can say hello, she says, “I already do.”
“Me too.”
“What are you doing?”
“Lying in bed.”
“It’s like 9:00 p.m.”
“I know. I was bored and . . .”
“And?”
“Lonely, I guess.” I pause, but when she doesn’t respond, I add, “It feels weird to say because I used to like being alone. Figured I’d just try to go to sleep early.”
“I wish you were here,” we say at the same time.
“No, I wish I was there,” I amend. “This doesn’t feel like . . .my home anymore.”
“So . . . if you were here, what would we be doing?” Whether she changes the tone of our conversation on purpose to avoid the seriousness or she’s just feeling playful, I’m grateful and play along.
“Oh, baby girl, we’d be . . .” I laugh at my own joke before I speak it. “Doing each other, I’m pretty sure.” Her lilting giggle comes through the phone and fills the room like she’s here. “God, I miss you. Your smell, your skin, your touch, your kiss.”
“If you were here, I’d kiss you.”
“Tell me where you are right now. I wanna picture it—you.”
“I’m in my room, on my bed.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Your muscle shirt.”
“What else?”
“That’s it.”
“Ugh, Ever, you’re killin’ me.”
“It smells like you. I don’t think I’ll wash it till you come back.”
“If I were there, I’d pull it off you and kiss every inch of your body.” I shove my boxers down one-handed and kick them the rest of the way off with my feet. I wrap my hand around my hardened length and pretend it’s her hand touching me, stroking me. “Ugh,” I muffle my groan with the back of my other hand. I’m not sure when we decided to take our call here, but we’re in obvious agreement, fully on the same page.
“I’d tangle my fingers in your hair while you kiss me. I know you like it when I do that.” Her voice goes breathless on the last two words before her moan pierces the darkness. “Mmm, Julie.”
Fuck, she is so hot. Thisis soo hot.
My dick swells in my hand, telling me I’m close. This might be the quickest I’ve ever come in my life—even quicker than that first night by the pool after seven months without her. Her moans send me over the edge. “Ungh, mmm, yes.”
Panting through my own orgasm, I swipe my boxers from the foot of the bed for clean-up and lie there spent. Neither of us makes a sound except to regulate our breathing. Once mine goes back to normal, my eyelids begin to droop. “I don’t want to let you go.”
“Same.” Her reply sounds heavy, like she’s almost asleep. “I wish your arms were around me right now.”
“Pretend. Leave the phone by your pillow so I can hear you breathe.”
“M-kay. You too.”
Sunlight assaults my eyelids and I squint against the already sweltering rays coming through the sliding door. My phone still rests against my pillow but the screen is black. I blink against the daylight and tap the screen. She’s gone but there’s a text from her. It’s barely 7:00 a.m., but still way later than I ever sleep.
