8. Making Things Better or Worse
Definitely one of the two.
I answered the phone when Luke called. Because I am an awesome human who is great at making progress, I didn’t make a high-pitched noise and hang up this time.
“What are you wearing?” Luke’s voice purred in my ear. Oh. Huh. I was pretty good at awkward situations since I’d been in so many of them but apparently this whole thing was too much, so much that I’d died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation because Luke didn’t. We didn’t…
“Am I dead?” I asked. I pinched myself. It hurt. Did that mean I wasn’t dead?
“That’s not an answer.” His voice was less sexy and more confused.
“You never wanna do this with me,” I explained.
“Thought it might take some of the pressure off.” His voice was rich and warm in my ear.
Hey, that wasn’t a bad idea. We didn’t have to look at each other. We didn’t have to touch each other. There were so many potential pitfalls with those actions, and it seemed like we discovered them all last time, but there were probably more we could find. No one had been on fire last time after all, so this? Just talking. That could work. And we were already connected on the phone, so our friends weren’t involved this time.
I threw myself on my bed, grinning like an eager lunatic. I was on a cell phone, but I felt like a schoolgirl talking to her crush, so I wasn’t really surprised when I found my hand in the air twirling an imaginary phone cord. I managed to control my hand and tried, then failed, to control my grin. This was happening! Maybe. And the universe wasn’t punishing me after all because I was alone and my roommate was going to be gone all night.
“Okay, what are you wearing?” I asked like an eager lunatic.
“I asked you first,” Luke said instead of telling me what he was wearing.
“I’ve asked you a million times before.” But maybe we should focus on right now, which I mainly told myself because I was busy imagining this going well, imagining us video chatting next time, being able to see Luke’s chest and abs, his face as he groaned in pleasure, as—
“Are we really gonna argue about this first?” Luke asked, drawing me away from my sexy thoughts.
“Not if you just tell me what you’re wearing,” I told him sweetly. I lied on my back, trying to get comfortable, wondering if I should take off my clothes, then stopping myself from asking a million questions and overthinking it. Truth be told, us arguing about this wasn’t a total turn off.
“Alright, okay, you win,” he grumbled. Oh baby. “I haven’t changed, so I’m in my sweaty work shirt and jeans that have seen better days. There’s either cow manure or mud on them.”
Okay, a lot of that? Kind of a turn off. His words were certainly painting a picture but probably not the right one. I lived in a town that was big on agriculture, so I could imagine all the sights and smells of a barn or ranch pretty clearly. Unfortunately. “Hey babe, did you forget what we were doing here?”
“Uh, yeah, kinda,” Luke admitted.
“Do you want to try again?” I voted yes.
“Well, you asked me a question,” he said a little defensively. We were back to things that maybe I shouldn’t find attractive but I did anyway. “I’m not going to lie to you.” Aww, that was sweet.
Still though. “For the purposes of this exercise, you totally have permission to lie,” I informed him.
“Okay,” Luke said and nodded. I couldn’t see him, but he totally did. He was using his focused voice, his let’s-get-down-to-business voice. It was a good voice. “I’m wearing, like.” His voice became less focused and sure. “Pants and a shirt. But, sexy?” Confused Luke was also kind of attractive but less in a hot way and more like I wanted to wrap him in my arms and feed him baked goods and cuddle him to sleep, was that a way? That should totally be a way.
“The correct answer is nothing,” I said, putting him out of his misery.
“Seems kind of like a trick question.” Now he sounded a bit annoyed. Oh there, that was the perfect tone of voice. “But if that’s the right answer, why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Should I write a script?” I joked. There was nothing sexy about paper cuts, stapling, and rote memorization. We were too inexperienced yet and not comfortable enough for roleplay… though I did like the idea of being a demanding director, Luke being my shirtless PA. What did PA stand for? Penis assistant? Hollywood was gross. Wait. Probably production assistant. Damn.
“A script would be great actually.” Luke had to be disagreeable, even when I didn’t say out loud the thing he disagreed with. Didn’t we decide he had to know what was going on in my mind at all times? I decided that. That counted.
“Takes all the romance out of it,” I argued lightly.
“Really? You being in charge and me saying exactly what you want makes things less sexy for you?” I could hear the smirk in his voice.
It was hard to argue with that, which was unfortunate because I loved arguing about pointless crap with him, but I gave it my best shot anyway. “Okay, you being a smartass also—"
“Really works for you?”
