Hey, Bug.You up?
My lips purse.I could ignore him.I could reply tomorrow when my core is less sore, and the feel of his hands running along my skin is less vivid.If I was smart, I would.But then the image of his pleading gaze hits me again.The one he gave when Bryan offered to drive me home.The one I can’t help but wonder if he had meant to keep locked down, and if he wasn’t so emotionally charged, he would’ve.Maybe.Possibly.I don’t even know.
Despite my better judgment, I type my response.
Me
Yeah, how are you?How’s your family?
Ford
Everyone’s good.Cobie called it in quickly, so the house didn’t take on too much damage.
Me
That’s good.
I don’t miss the way he dodges my question about him, just like earlier tonight.His thoughts.His feelings.How he’s holding up.Is it because he doesn’t want to tell me, or is it because he doesn’t want to tell anyone?
Me
You sure you’re good?
Ford
No worries, June Bug, I’ll survive.
Yeah, that sounds encouraging.
I try again.
Me
You can talk to me, you know.
Ford
I appreciate the sentiment, but I promise I’m fine.
Okay, then.
I stare at the text for a solid minute.I don’t know what else to say.Is there anything to say?It’s late.Really late.I should go to sleep before I say something I’ll regret in the morning.Like how I miss him and I’m worried about him.My phone buzzes again.
Ford
I’m sorry about your shitty grade.
A laugh bursts out of me.
Me
Pretty sure my grade should be the least of your worries at the moment.
Ford
Pretty sure it’s the best and worst distraction a guy could ask for.
Me
