Page 74 of Academically Yours

“Nothing.” Her joyful voice made me smile, too. “Ask your next question.”

“Middle name?”

“Mine is boring.” She sighed. “Marie.”

“Oh, yeah, try me.”

“What’s yours?”

“James.”

“Oh, Matthew. I do believe we’re tied for the most basic middle name,” she said, making us both laugh.

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” I asked.

“I’ve always wanted to be an author, publish a book. But I don’t know if my writing is any good, honestly…”

“Don’t say that. Noelle,” I frowned into my phone as I continued to lie on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve seen your projects. I’m sure you’re an amazing writer.”

“Yeah, well…” She sounded insecure through the phone, and I could picture her shrugging, pretending it didn’t affect her. “We’ll see I guess.”

“Your turn,” I prodded, wanting her to perk up again.

“Beach or mountains?”

“Mountains.” I laughed. “Somewhere in the snow. Camping or Hotel?” I asked her.

“I’ve never been camping, actually,” Noelle said. “But I think it sounds like fun. Hmm… Where’s the craziest place you’ve ever had sex?” she whispered into the phone.

“Well… My office,” I laughed. “With you.”

“Really?” she snorted. I loved that sound. “Me too,” Noelle added.

“What, did you peg me for some crazy sex-connoisseur or something?”

“Well, you were impossibly good. It was almost infuriating. Like, I’m pretty sure I was jealous of everyone you’ve ever been with, and you were literally inside of me.”

“Honestly, Noelle.” I just shook my head even though she couldn’t see it. “It’s never been like that for me before.”

“So good?”

“Yeah.”

“If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?”

“In your arms,” Noelle said with no hesitation.

“Really?”

“What were you thinking about before you called me?” she asked, her breath a little shallow.

“You.” My voice sounded a rougher than normal, but if she noticed, she didn’t comment on it. “I just… can’t keep my mind off of you, Noelle.”

“Oh.” I imagined her turning pink in her little apartment. I loved seeing her little blush, knowing it was all for me. “What would you do if I was there?”

I imagined her, sitting in bed, phone in her hand with her head tilted back, eyes closed as she talked to me on the phone. I liked imagining her in pajamas—wondering what little sexy thing she chose to wear to bed. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to do to her. Where would I even begin? “First thing I would do,” I said, as I sat up a little straighter, “is make you dinner. Because I’m a gentleman.”

She snorted. “Oh, the protective asshole act again?”