Page 15 of A Minute More
My lips stretch into a smile as I grip my phone, the bright light blinding my eyes as I type back a response.
Me:
I’m glad.
There’s nothing for a while, just the pounding of my heart and the whooshing of the fan, and then my phone buzzes, pulling my eyelids open.
Simon:
How are things going with Dena?
Dena? Honestly, I haven’t even thought of her. Her messages went unread and unanswered. I haven’t thought of her at all today. Fuck, I should probably message her back. She seems cool.
Jesus. I need to get my life in order and stop this weird thing I have with Simon.
Me:
She seems nice.
I blink down at my screen, wondering if he’s just going to ignore me once again and leave me to fall asleep with an unread response.
But a second later he replies.
Simon:
I’m glad.
I frown at my screen, running my finger over his words, back and forth until I accidentally hit the video call button. I scramble with my phone, trying to hang up, but unable to manage before I hear Simon’s voice on the other end of the line.
Fuck, how did I manage this?
I swear, sometimes I’m an idiot and tonight proves it.
“Wesley?” his voice rings out in my room, and I scrabble with my phone and hold it up to my face. The dim light in my room shows off my naked torso, and I wonder for just a moment what he thinks about it.
I mean, it is a nice torso. I work hard on my body. Many are impressed with it.
“Hey. Sorry. That was a mistake,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Didn’t mean to call….”
His eyes flash across the screen but he says nothing. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t hung up on me yet.
“So uhhhh…since you’re here…” I don’t know what to say so I blurt the first question that comes to my mind. “What’s your favorite color?”
His head cocks in the frame, some of his hair falling over his forehead as he eyes me.
“Blue.”
“Ah, yeah. Good color.” I’m feeling a little nervous, and I’m starting to stutter. “Like the sky and the ocean…”
“Yeah,” he says softly, his gaze boring into mine.
I shift on my bed and sit up a little further, my back knocking into my headboard.
“What’s yours?” he finally asks.
“Um, do I have to pick one? I like them all.”
He doesn’t respond right away so I blather on. “You know, I like pink and purple when I’m looking at the sunset. Blue when I’m fishing on the lake. White in the winters when I’m moving through the snow…. You get the gist. I don’t have just one.”