“Holy crap.” This time it’s me who pulls out another letter. I try hard not to tear it while yanking it from the ribbon as my heart flutters inside my chest.

“Now these are the kinds of words that bring romance to life. You can smell the passion.” Chelsea is practically vibrating next to me.

I lean over to Chelsea so she can see. I hold my breath as I take in every word. Next to me, Chelsea’s breath is coming in quick, audible gasps.

My beloved Jennifer,

If you think your silence will stop me from loving you, you don’t know me at all. Nothing will ever make me give up on us. How can I, when you invade my mind, my senses? I’m drowning in you, but I’ll be damned if I come up for air. Each time I lick my lips, I taste you. You taste of summer rain and strawberries. I long to taste you in the flesh again, to slide my tongue between your lips. I hunger so much for the sweetness of your skin. I want to taste you in places you can’t reach, can’t even see. I dream of being able to trace a path across your body until I reach my favorite place, tucked away just for me. Babe, I ache for you every night. For now, the memories breathe life into me. They keep me whole until I can return to you.

J.D.

I swallow hard and pull the letter to my chest. Fire spreads across my cheeks. “This is wrong. We can’t read them. They’re personal.”

Chelsea grabs the letter from my hand. “So personal that Jen, whoever she is, didn’t think twice about leaving them behind?” She pouts as her eyes glint with mischief. “I say these babies are now public property.”

“You have a point.” I chew on the edge of my nail. “What should we do with them after? I can’t just put them back where I found them. I’ll never be able to sleep knowing I’m lying on top of them.”

Chelsea, deep in thought, twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “I wonder who this J.D. is. How about we read one or two more to find out?”

“And if we find out who he is? What then? You think we should return them to him instead? They can’t mean that much to Jen if she left them here.”

“Maybe she forgot where she put them.”

“I doubt that.” I pause. “I think we should find out who she is and give them back. Then she can decide what she wants to do with them.”

Chelsea stops unfolding one of the letters and glances at me. A finger is pressed to her lips. “Jen… Jennifer… hmmm... doesn’t ring a bell.” Her eyes come alive again. “I still want to know who this hottie is, though. He has a way with words. I’d dump Neil in a heartbeat for a guy like that.” She climbs off the chair and I join her on the couch.

“I find that hard to believe. You and Neil are made for each other.”

“You’re right. I wish he’d get over his guilt, though.”

Chelsea has been dating Neil Mead, a design student, for a year. After meeting and dating online for six months, Chelsea transferred from a university in Michigan—where she’d already completed two years of her four-year bachelor’s degree program—to Oaklow University to be near her guy. But despite her sacrifice for love, she often complains her relationship is far from perfect. Neil suffers constant Catholic guilt over their sex life, and it drives Chelsea insane.

“You’re still perfect together.” I shift closer to her. “Come on, let’s find out more.” My heart rate picks up pace. I can’t remember a time I was more excited about anything—except, of course for the day I stepped foot on campus. Nothing beats that.

The distance between us is nothing but air. You’re here with me even when you’re far away. Everything smells of you. Everything tastes of you. My crappy food tastes like caviar, seasoned with memories of you. You know the one thing I miss the most? Licking drops of champagne from your lips, from your belly button, from your pussy. Baby, even the most expensive champagne has nothing on you.

“Wow, this is getting pretty graphic.” After two more erotically charged letters, I let out a breath. “I don’t know if I can do this. I feel so guilty.”

“We’re reading for a reason. We have to find out who these people are. It’s too late to stop now.” Chelsea grins. “For God’s sake. You already know how her nether regions taste. How much more personal can it get?”

I slap Chelsea on the arm and we leaf through more letters. Some we read completely, and others we only glance over.

I shake my head and place my palms on my glowing cheeks. “We’ve read their deepest secrets and we’re still no closer to knowing who they are. We need something to start with… a last name.” So far, the letters we’ve read are all addressed to someone named Jennifer and signed with the initials J.D., but without the envelopes, we’re stuck.

“Lucky for us, I can’t resist a mystery.” Chelsea’s short, chipped nail taps one of the letters. “I think I found something to occupy me tomorrow.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I thought you were up to your neck in lectures and presentations. How will you find time to hunt down the name of a stranger among ten thousand students? Who knows how many Jennifers there are?”

“Then I’ll find out who J.D. is.” Chelsea jumps to her feet. She glances at her watch and frowns. “If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s this: I always have time for a good mystery. It shouldn’t take me long to figure out who the lovebirds are. For now I need a good night’s rest. It’s way past midnight.” A yawn assails her as she shuffles to her bed. “I’ll finish unpacking tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” I return to my bed as well, and finish making it. Then I go to the bathroom to wash my face and change into my pajamas—if an oversized plain t-shirt can be called that.

Less than thirty minutes later, the lights are out. By the time my eyes drift shut, a faint tingle is still dancing on my spine.