Page 99 of First-Time Caller
LUCIE:Are you aware the internet is talking about us?
I drop my phone on the edge of the bed while I change into an oversized T-shirt and a pair of short black shorts, worn with a hole on the thigh.
My phone buzzes and I force myself to wash my face and brush my teeth before I look at it.
AIDEN:To which US are you referring?
I roll my eyes.
LUCIE:You and me. Aiden Valentine and Lucie Stone.
AIDEN:Yes, I’m aware. Why? Did you see something?
No. Frankly, I’m still too terrified to open any of my social media applications. Blissful oblivion is the name of the game at this point.
I tap my thumbnail against my screen.
LUCIE:What are they saying?
AIDEN:A bunch of stuff.
God, this man. It feels like he’s being deliberately obtuse. Two steps forward and then he sprints back, hurling himself into an emotionally destitute bush.
LUCIE:Like what?
AIDEN:Lucie.
LUCIE:Aiden.
AIDEN:I’d prefer if you just ask what you want to ask.
I sigh and crawl into my bed.
LUCIE:Maya said something.
AIDEN:Was it something about a long-lost historical artifact?
LUCIE:I knew you loved the Indiana Jones thing.
AIDEN:Of course I did. It was incredible.
AIDEN:What did she say?
I bite at my bottom lip, thumbs hesitating. I’m being ridiculous.
AIDEN:I’m on the edge of my seat, Lucie.
I blow out a breath and ask the question.
LUCIE:Why did you kiss me tonight?
My phone immediately rings in the palm of my hand. I almost fling it across the room, bury my head beneath my pillow, and pretend I’m asleep.
But I’m working on being a new and improved version of myself, and new Lucie doesn’t avoid phone calls no matter how uncomfortable they might be.
I groan and hit answer. “Hello?”
“Are you implying,” he asks, in lieu of a greeting, “that I’m willing to whore myself for ratings?”
