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My list of injuries is so long that it could be a book. I can’t feel my index finger in my right hand any time the temperature drops below fifty degrees, and I’ll probably need reconstructive shoulder surgery in my forties from all the blocking.

My hips are so abused, I wouldn’t be surprised if my bones were black and blue, and don’t get me started on what all the years of dropping into butterfly have done to my knees.

My phone starts ringing again, but this time, Nina’s FaceTiming me. I drop my phone on the counter, lurching for a towel to wrap around my waist.

I swipe and then her cute face appears on the screen. She’s lying on her bed. Safe at home. My shoulders relax. I stare at the freckles on her nose. I prefer calling, but maybe I can get used to FaceTiming.

“Let me see,” she demands.

I blink, somewhat distracted by her glasses. Why are they lopsided? Those guys better not have touched her. “See what?”

“Your ribs. Let me see them. I want to see the bruises.”

I don’t want her to see me all beaten when she doesn’t have a wrinkle in sight. “No. It’s not that bad. I’m fine.”

“Please?” Her shoulders slump as she leans back into her pillows, and I’d give anything to sleep somewhere other than a hotel mattress tonight. “I’m just worried about you, and I’ll feel better if I see it for myself. I don’t like imagining you being hurt. Please?”

“Alright, but it’s not pretty. You’ve been warned.”

“I don’t care if you look pretty, I just care about you.”

Her cheeks turn pink after she says that, and the color matches the burning feeling in my chest. I ate a ton of oranges today, though, and that always gives me heartburn.

I adjust the camera, ensuring the towel is secured around my waist, and then show her my reflection in the mirror. I keep my eyes on her as she watches, trying to gauge her reaction. She winces, tilts her head, and her cheeks flush darker.

“That bad?” I ask.

“Yeah, it looks pretty painful, and you should definitely sit in the bath when we hang up, but…” She catches her bottom lip between her teeth.

“But what?”

“I have to admit, it’s kind of sexy,” she says in a breathy voice. “Really sexy, actually. I probably shouldn’t say that, but oh well. You’ve licked my entire body, so you already know I think you’re sexy. I’m going to be thinking about this visual a lot.”

“Nina…”

She smirks. “At night.”

My cock jumps beneath the towel. “Don’t.”

“In bed, naked, all alone. Poor little me.”

Fucking hell.

Now, I’m picturing her screaming my name as she circles her clit. She’s biting her lip in a challenge.

We really shouldn’t be doing this, but I have a hard time saying no to this girl, so with a groan, I reach down to stroke myself. “Do you wish I was there to make you feel better? Do you need my tongue or do you want my cock?”

She peers through the screen and into my soul. “I just want whatever I can get. I kind of miss talking to you, but I didn’t want to bother you since I know you’re busy, and we’re, I don’t know, friends who’ve slept together? It’s awkward.”

My hand stops moving around my dick. “Yeah, we’ve slept together, but it’s not awkward. We both know this isn’t going anywhere, so you can bother me anytime you want. It can get pretty lonely in hotel rooms, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

Her smile fades, and even though I’m still hard as concrete, we don’t have phone sex. Instead, I prop the phone on the ledge and jump into the cold water to calm down.

That doesn’t work.

We talk for hours until my balls are blue and my fingers are wrinkled. She practices her speech with me for The Peaceful Mind Project, and I tell her about the ¡Vamos! sponsorship meeting. We end up talking about everything and nothing and all the things in between.

I fall asleep with a rock-hard dick, a smile on my face, and my phone over my heart.