“Me too. I haven’t even showered yet. Needed to hear your voice. It’s been a rough few days.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“Not now. I don’t even want to think about it. How was your trip home? What’s going on?”
“Besides missing you like crazy?”
“Five and a half more weeks.”
I start to say something about that being too long but decide against it. He doesn’t need to worry. So, instead, I tell him about the going away party, the trip home, and the latest email about my projects.
“Wow, sounds like you’re going to be busy.”
“And we have to be in Kentucky the first few days of August for NCAA Cheerleading camp. This helps with our bid to Nationals.”
“Is it co-ed?”
“Of course.”
He groans in the phone. “How much longer are you cheering?”
“As long as I can.”
“It almost killed me in Miami to watch those guys feeling all over you. Not sure how I’m going to get through football season.” He no longer sounds tired but more pissed off.
“Are you really jealous of my teammates?”
“Yeah. Thinking about petitioning the school to insist on shorts instead of skirts.”
“BRYCE! Don’t you dare!” I protest, knowing he would do it.
“Maybe you could stop shaving your legs and washing your hair. Anything to keep the guys away.”
“That’s really gross.”
There’s a rustling sound, and then the phone goes quiet. I vaguely hear a female voice in the background. Then Bryce says something back, muffled.
“Listen, I need to go. Nate’s going to call your parents later.”
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Just someone confirming a project we’re working on tomorrow.”
A nagging feeling slinks up my spine. I start to ask him more but decide to drop it.
“I’m whipped. Need some sleep and a hot shower.”
“Umm,” a moan slips through.
“Devon, quit,” he hisses.
“Hearing you say whipped and shower is sexy.”
“Stop now! I cannot get a hard on here. The guys will never let me live it down.”
“I’m sorry. It’s the sexual frustration coming through.”
“Sexually frustrated is an understatement. You have no idea.”