Chapter 13
If I could reach out across the world to touch him, I would. Sounds kinda creepy, but it’s true. -Reina
Reina
My phone vibrates and my heart launches into outer space. My smile is huge as I answer. “Hey there,” I say in a sultry voice.
“Is that my brother again?” Sophie asks and launches a pillow at my head before I even have time to answer her.
“Yes, cranky pants,” I say and launch the pillow back at her. “It’s your big bro.”
“Tell him I said Hey, and to maybe stop calling at three am,” she grumbles and rolls over in her bed so that she’s facing the wall. I smile when she puts on her noise-cancelling headphones.
“Is my sister giving you shit again?” Brian asks in an amused voice.
“Yes,” I sigh, but I’m still smiling like a loon. “As well she should. It is three am here,” I tease. “She’s only right in wanting her sleep. I’ll probably be a zombie tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to hang up?” he questions in an anxious voice.
He should know by now I don’t want him to. I love these middle of the night phone calls where we tease and torment each other. I never want them to end, and I could really give a shit what I feel like tomorrow. I have an anatomy lab. Who wants to stay awake for that anyway?
“Maybe I do,” I say in a singsong voice. “I mean, I do need my beauty sleep.”
He chuckles and I get goose bumps at the husky sound. “Nah, you don’t need that. I don’t think you could get any more beautiful than you are now.”
Despite knowing that what he just said is really cheesy, a warm feeling shoots through me.
“Charmer,” I murmur. “How are things? What are you up to over there?” I ask this, knowing full well he can’t really give me any details. But God I just want to picture where he is. I want to be able to picture his muscular body propped up the way I am with a silly smile on his face just because he’s talking to me.
“It’s the same as always,” he blows out a long breath. “Lots of missions. Lots of secret, spiderman ninja like things that I can’t talk about. Oh, and I finally won at poker against
Diaz. Won the oatmeal cookies that his mom sends. I mean, they’re kind of hard as bricks by the time they get here, but it was still a win.” He often talks about the guys in his squadron. I know all their names by now. Diaz is a mama’s boy who teases Brian like crazy about talking to me so often.
I chuckle. “That does sound exciting. I would be a little more hyped for you if it were at least chocolate chip.”
“Hey, now. Never doubt the appeal of the oatmeal raisin cookie. It’s like me, an oldie, but a goodie.” I hear a rustle, and then the sound of chewing. “Ugh, forget what I said. I am nothing like this cookie. It tastes disgusting.”
I snort. “You’re only three years older than me, old man.”
“Three years older and wiser, sweetheart. Wise enough to know that I’m lucky to even be talking to you, my beautiful Reina.” His voice is deep and seductive. These late-night talks with him always make me itchy for more. More of him, hopefully one day in person. I rub my legs together and try not to think about that achy feeling in my core.
“Also, old enough to be full of shit, I see,” I tease.
“You love my lines. Though like I’ve tried to tell you before, they’re true.” I hear background noise and sit up straight.
“I hear something there. Anything I need to know about?” My stomach flips for a different reason this time. I worry so much for him. Worry about him in the middle of god knows where doing god knows what.
“Nah, it’s fine,” he says, but he’s clearly a little distracted. “Tell me about your latest project. What did you draw today?”
I relax against my pillows again. I start telling him about the drawing of the fountain in the quad I started on today. I’m trying to build a portfolio, in the hopes that one day I’ll maybe have the nerve to show my stuff to someone.
“It sounds wonderful, sweetheart. I wish I could see it. Maybe be there to watch you draw it.” He sounds wistful and sad. My heart aches for him and well, myself. Is it possible to miss someone that you haven’t even spent real time with? If it is, I’m guilty of it.
“You’ll be here soon. It’s already been two months.” Two months and three days since I last saw him, but who’s counting? A little over a month of these phone calls where we talk about nothing and everything. Two months of letters full of who we are and what our hopes and dreams are. He’s never stopped sending the letters, no matter how many times we talk on the phone. These phone calls aren’t as frequent as I would want, but the sound of his voice stays with me long after we hang up.
“Yeah, I guess. Did you talk to your mom yet? Tell her anything about your art?”
I grimace. “No, I didn’t. Not yet. I mean, maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just be like one of those docs who doesn’t see a lot of patients hands on. Like a dermatologist or something.”
He snorts. “Reina, have you watched Dr. Pimple Popper ? That shit is disgusting, and it’s for sure very hands on.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Ewww. Okay, no. No dermatology. Maybe anesthesiologist. I can watch people sleep. No problem.”
He sighs heavily. “Sweetheart, if you don’t want to be a doctor, don’t be a doctor. You just have to tell her.”
This time it’s my chance to give a snort of derision. “So says the guy whose mother thinks he walks on water.”
Sophie has told me multiple times that their mother thinks he can do no wrong. She’s so proud of him she could burst with it, apparently. Totally the opposite of my mom.
“I can’t help it if she appreciates me for the totally awesome person I am,” he brags. “Maybe one day you will too.”
If he only knew…
He clears his throat. “Let’s get to the dirty talk portion of the evening. What are you wearing tonight, Reina?” he drawls in a low voice.
I smile and pull my blanket up. This is my favorite part of these conversations. “I’m wearing a pink snowsuit with footies and one of those hats with one fuzzy ball hanging from it.”
He blows out a long breath. “Tell me more, gorgeous girl,” he chuckles. “Tell me all about this snowsuit.”
So, I do. I make up the most ridiculous outfit ever dreamed up and he listens intently, adding on details for me. It’s a game we play. By the time we’re finished the suit has rainbows on it and I’m also carrying a bow and arrow across my back.
“One day you’re going to tell me what you actually have on,” he says wistfully.
I glance down at my shortie shorts and camisole under the covers. Nothing fancy, but definitely sexier than a snowsuit. “I don’t think so. You’re surrounded by like a million people there, so I don’t think we could do a proper dirty talk conversation.” I reply in a lilting voice.
“God, I wish you were here. I hate not being able to see you, and I hate that we can’t even be alone on the phone.” He always gets melancholy when we’re about to hang up.
“Um, sorry, but I wouldn’t want to be in the middle of wherever the hell they sent you,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood.
“You know what I mean,” he pauses, “I wish I could be in bed with you right now.”
The low growl in his voice sets my panties on fire as usual. “I wish you were here too,” I murmur, and then mentally slap myself. “Of course, we would barely fit on this bed of mine. You’re awfully tall.”
“I’m sure we could manage,” he laughs. “We could always spoon.”
“As long as you’re the little spoon,” I joke.
“Of course.”
We hang up a few minutes later, and I lay there for a long time, just looking at the ceiling. I imagine Brian doing the same thing wherever he is. Shit, I’ve got it bad .