“It’s amazing to hear your voice.” I mean it. The masculine timbre creates a pang of regret for being away from him. Never in my wildest dreams would I have envisioned myself in a relationship with the Navy—this feeling of longing warring with reality. We haven’t even kissed yet, but the intimacy between us seems deeper in a way. I think that’s why you need to have a relationship that flourishes under the pressures of separation. That’s what I’m telling myself, anyway.
He clears his throat. “How is moving in going? I wish I could be there to help. I feel awful,” Smith says. Hearing his voice again sends shivers down my spine.
I shake my head. “Do not feel bad. You’re giving Jasmine an opportunity to participate in her favorite pastime. Furniture building,” I say.
Jasmine yells from the bedroom some unintelligible threats in Mandarin.
“It was perfect timing for your trip. I’d think it was planned if I didn’t know better. Moose dropped off several large tubs. Why isn’t he with you?” I ask. Strong willpower has kept me from peeking in Smith’s things. Honestly, I’m probably one glass of wine away from popping the top off.
Smith sighs. It’s a long, drawn-outnoise.
“What’s wrong?” There’s a flurry of background noise. Maybe they’re in a restaurant? It is dinnertime.
“Nothing. It’s nothing for you to worry about. Moose is leaving tomorrow for a different training trip. They split us up.” There’s a hint of anger in his tone. Silverware clanks against a plate. “Sorry about the noise. We’re out. I wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
I walk into the empty living room and sit down in the middle. The sunlight has almost faded to black. The polish scent is strong in here, and the window that overlooks the street outside has been Windexed to death. There’s not a smudge to be seen. Busying myself with mundane observations helps with the unease that Smith has created. “When you tell a person not to worry, it has the opposite effect. I’m vacillating between fear and straight panic right now.”
“Hold on,” he says. I think he mutes the phone because it goes silent for several seconds. “Are you there?” he asks, his voice now clearer. I confirm I am. “Moose has been speaking with Megan.” I blow out a tiny, pent-up breath and fold my legs crisscross, finding a yoga pose. My friend Teala owns a yoga studio. She’d be proud. This isn’t so bad.
“I may need a little more to go on. I don’t see an issue,” I reply.
The stubble on his chin rubs his cell phone, creating a scratching noise. “She’s been calling me too. I’m notgiving her the answers she wants, so she’s resorted to trying to extort information from my best friend. At least I think that’s what’s going on. When I said it’s nothing, I meant it. It’s just irritating me right now. For the first time since the accident, I’m happy and I just want to move forward.”
“I see. Well, if you think about it, Smith. You and Megan have been with each other longer than you’ve been without each other. You were teenagers. You may not remember, but she does. Something like what you had can’t be easy to let go of. I hate to play the devil’s advocate here, especially when it’s in my interest to agree with you, but I can see why she’s having a hard time with the recent events.” I look at the rubber storage tubs emblazoned with “Eppy” written across them in black Sharpie marker. “And for the record, it sort of, kind of, is something I should worry about. What is she asking Moose?”
“He’s always held a torch for Megan. I can’t be sure what’s going on, Carina. She wants to know about me. About you. About us.”
I swallow down a ball of nerves. “I should talk to her.” Part of me thinks I have no right to suggest it, but if things move forward as hastily as they have been, I owe it to her to give her my side of the story or at the very least listen to her and answer her questions firsthand. Moose wouldn’t go there with Megan. I have to believe their friendship is stronger than that. “Moose wouldnever do that to you. He’s your friend.” On the other hand, what if they could make each other happy?
“None of this matters, and I didn’t want to concern you with it. I shouldn’t have told you,” Smith breathes. I can tell he’s finished with this conversation. “Hearing your voice makes everything better. You should know that this doesn’t make a difference to me. Moose called and left a vague voicemail and won’t answer now. Where are you at right now?”
I know how to let something go. He doesn’t want to talk about it, so I won’t push. Right now, at least. Face-to-face is probably a better time to have a conversation such as this. “Fine. I trust you. Know that. You’re allowed to be upset about Megan.” Her name catches in my throat. “Why do you want to know where I am?” I ask, cradling the cell phone in the crook of my neck.
Jasmine swears in Mandarin from my bedroom. At least something I assume is a swear because of her angered tone.
“I want to know where you’re at so I can start my list.”
I smile. “List?” I ask. “A list of what?”
“The list of places in our house where I’ll eventually make love to you.” His voice is a low, rough timbre. Desire hits me in waves. It’s shocking and immediate. My face flushes and my stomach flip-flops. “Every square inch, obviously. But I’m making a list with the order.”
He’s stolen my words and my breath. Somethingthat’s hard to do. “Oh,” I reply.
“Where are you?” he asks again, his voice cutting straight to my core.
“The living room. Sitting right in the middle. Looking out the window,” I explain. The sun sets completely, sheathing me in night.
Smith lets out a breath and audibly swallows. “That will be the first place,” he says. “Make sure there isn’t any furniture in that exact spot.”
Licking my lips, I take note of my position and agree.
It takes a few moments of breathing. Feeling the oxygen enter and the carbon dioxide exit my body to clear my head. It’s the first time we’ve spoken of sex. Not that it’s not an undertone in every conversation we have, but it hasn’t been allowed in the past, nor has it felt so right. This is our time now. I have to believe it is fate allowing a perfect circumstance. Nothing else explains the sheer coincidence of our predicament.
“I won’t. I’ll keep it clear,” I reiterate.
If there is such a thing as hearing a grin, I do now. Smith is smiling, and this is a tiny victory in the middle of whatever he’s dealing with in regard to Moose and Megan. “I wanted to ask you something,” he whispers. It’s still quiet. He’s remained outside for our conversation.
“After our exchange, I’m pretty sure anything else will be icing on the cake,” I joke.
