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“Me too. I can’t stop thinking about you. People keep asking me why I’m smiling so much.”
I giggle, another new thing that being with Stone has brought about. Marcel’s visit feels like it happened in another lifetime. Stone has a way of making everything clean and bright and new.
“Let’s go back to Mexico,” I whisper.
“I wish. I’ve been looking at the pictures from our trip. I took so many good ones of your sexy ass.” His voice is husky and deep, and it makes my knees weak just to imagine his face right now; his irreverent smile is everything.
“Ooh, I found one…I don’t know who took it, but you’ll love it.” I find the picture on my phone, taken by our tour guide when we weren’t looking.
“Send it,” he says.
“No, I’ll show you when you get here.”
“Ugh, you’re such a tease,” he groans.
A deep male voice calls his name, and my stomach drops because I know he has to go.
“I’ve got a staff meeting in five minutes. We’re leaving at first light tomorrow, so I’ll try to call you tonight.”
“Okay, have a good day.” I try to sound cheerful, even though this three-month long expedition of his feels like the sword of Damocles hovering over my neck. And I don’t even know why. Other than how much I’ll miss him and the sense of safety having him in my life gives me.
We’ve had this month of late-night phone calls and endless text messaging threads. He’s helped me think through my plans for Venus Rising, and I hate that he’s going on this trip, just as it’s finally coming together.
I know he’s going to do things that will save lives and that this is important to him, so I keep my disappointment to myself.
“I’m so proud of you. It’s going to be incredible.”
“I’m going to miss you, Regan.” His voice is gruff, and I drop my façade of happiness.
“I’ll miss you, too.” I wish I could hug him.
“I’ll write you and mail the letters whenever we stop somewhere that has postal service,” he promises.
“I’ll text you every day. And email you about Venus Rising. We’re breaking ground on the dorms, and I want you to see it all.” I force cheer into my voice.
“I won’t have service,” he reminds me, and I swallow a groan.
“Then they’ll be there when you get back.”
“And what about you? Will you be here for me when I get back?” His voice is low, sensual, and heavy with meaning.
“Of course, I will be.”
“Good. In three months, I’ll be back in Houston, and I want more than your friendship.”
My heart flails with happiness. I was afraid he’d never ask again. “Really? What about Hayes?”
“Who cares what he thinks?” he says, with bravado that makes me nervous.
“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into? Maybe we should test the waters, first. Go slow.”
“I’m not testing anything. I know the temperature of this ocean, Ba
by, and it’s perfect. Get your ass in here with me, and I’ll show you,” he says, in that growly voice of his, that makes my scalp throb for the tug of his hand in my hair.
“So, just three more months?” I check my mental calendar. “And everything is good with Baylor? Are you ready to start?”
“Yup, after the longest background check in history. I’m pretty sure they called my ninth-grade math teacher for a reference,” he chuckles.
