Page 37 of Intrepid

Terrifyingly mesmerizing.

Two seconds later, my phone buzzed with a call and I clicked to answer the now-familiar number blinking across my screen.

“Oh my God, you’re crazy.”

“It’s beautiful up here.” His deep, sleepy voice shot a tingle across my skin and tugged some invisible string attached to my inner thighs.

“I’ll take your word for it.” I lay back on my pillow, listening to the sound of his labored breaths through the phone.

“You should come find me.”

I smiled at that, running the capped end of my pen across my cheek, mentally stifling the urge to shove it into my mouth. “No thanks. I like my feet firmly planted on the ground. What are you on anyway?”

“Tower crane.”

Tiny wings fluttered in my stomach at thought of him scaling something so high in the air, higher than the RenCen, and I tried not to think of how many near-misses he could’ve had along the way. “If that’s what you have in mind for our date, I’m out.”

“You think I’d let you fall, Sera?” A loaded question.

One I didn’t bother to answer and risk he’d hear the honesty bleeding through it.

“Your turn,” he said, switching the subject. “Send me something exciting.”

“What? Like a dick pic?” Palm to my face, I captured a chuckle, imagining his expression on the other end of the line.

“You send me a dick pic and this conversation’s over.” In spite of the amusement that colored his tone, his voice held a warning.

“Well I’m afraid there’s nothing exciting going on here. Unless you’d like me to read the two-thousand word draft of my research paper.” I shoved the plastic pen between my teeth, the pressure a comfort where it pressed into my cheek.

“Where are you right now?”

“My bedroom.”

“Where at?” His questions were layered with anticipation, slowly building toward something that plied my curiosity.

So I played along.

“My bed.”

“Show me.”

I’d never been the kind of girl to fire off nude pics to guys, having read too many cyberbullying stories. I didn’t take selfies, didn’t really follow any particular social media, and I sure as hell didn’t pose for the camera. Had no idea what a guy like Ty would consider sexy. I stared down at myself, as I lay sprawled on the bed in a spaghetti-strap tank and athletic shorts, my books scattered around me. Not exactly a racy lingerie spread.

“I’m waiting.” Something dark and wicked carried through the phone, sending another flutter to my stomach.

“You’re sitting on top of the world right now, waiting on a selfie from me? I’m sure your view is far more enticing.”

“Enticing? Yeah, sure. Nothing I haven’t seen before, though.”

“You strike me as a guy who’s not easily impressed.”

“Depends on what I’m looking at.”

“I doubt my study session qualifies as anything all that captivating.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention. You’ve proven to be a pretty effective distraction for me so far.”

I set the pen to my lips, running it along the seam, as I smiled. Eyes scanning for a prop, I swiped up my Juvenile Crime And Justice book, cracked the spine of it and placed it on my chest, only allowing a small bit of cleavage over the top. Head kicked to the side to avoid my scar, I snapped a picture that spanned from my jawline to just below the top of the book, and sent it to him.