“I’m glad you called,” Mae says softly.
I smile to myself.
“I am too,” I rasp.
We sit there for a moment, and I don’t want to hang up, but I need to. I need to get some rest, and I’m sure Mae does too.
“I don’t want to hang up, but I know you’re tired.”
“Then don’t hang up. I need to finish getting ready for bed. I got as far as my pajamas on,” she says.
I rub my mustache, smiling. “What are you wearing?” I ask her.
She doesn’t answer, then I hear a beep on my phone. Lifting it from my ear, I check it and see she’s trying to video chat with me. I sit up straight and press the green button.
Her face pops up, and she’s smiling with a sly look on her face as she moves the phone from her beautiful face down her body. She’s in a giant t-shirt and baggy shorts that go to her knees. I bristle. They look like men’s clothes.
“So sexy,” she says sarcastically.
“Are those another man’s clothes?” I ask her.
She giggles. “Why? Jealous?”
I grumble, and she laughs. “No, they aren’t. I just like baggy clothes.”
“I figured you women wore lingerie or something.”
She laughs a full belly laugh, and my chest warms at the sound of her laughter. “I don’t know if I own a piece of lingerie.”
“We may have to change that,” I mutter.
Mae giggles again and takes me with her. It’s dark, then a light flips on in her bathroom.
“If I bought any, it would be for me, not you,” she says.
“Obviously, but it would be a gift that keeps on giving,” I grit out. She has no idea what she does to me. Or maybe she does, and she loves messing with me. I like both options.
“You make it sound like I’m a fruitcake,” she snorts.
“Only I wouldn’t give you to anyone else, and hog you all for myself,” I say, without thinking.
Our eyes meet through the screen, and satisfaction rolls through me as her cheeks tinge rose.
“I still don’t know how I feel about being compared to a fruitcake,” she mumbles and put her toothbrush in her mouth.
I go to my bathroom to do the same. “I’d say more like a gift, but if you want to go the fruitcake route, we can roll with it.”
She smiles through her toothbrush. “You’re ridiculous,” she says, and a bit of toothpaste runs from her mouth.
“And you are unforgettable.”
We stare at each other while brushing, and as weird as it is to video chat brushing teeth together. It feels normal, natural.
I wash my face and then take my phone to my room to change.
I unbutton my shirt and toss it onto the pile of laundry that keeps growing and needs to be washed.
Mae gasps over the phone, and I turn to her, wondering what the sound was for.
