Chapter Fourteen
Dax
The phone rings at noon on Wednesday, and I’m annoyed with myself for feeling so damn elated to see Lisa’s name.
“Hello, hot stuff,” I say.
She laughs, and I flip up the shield up on my welding visor and wonder what she’s wearing.
“Hello—crap, I can’t think of any good pet names for you,” she answers.
“Pookie?” I offer.
“Ew.”
“Custard bunny?”
“Gross.”
“My steaming hunk of man meat?”
She laughs again, and it’s a sound that leaves my body humming. I settle back against the workbench in my warehouse and set down the welding torch I was messing with when she called.
“Now I’ve forgotten why I called you,” she says.
“It wasn’t just to hear my sexy voice?” I say. “Or for phone sex?”
“That’s a terrific idea, actually,” she says. “Can we schedule that in sometime before The Test is over?”
“You don’t schedule phone sex, Lisa.” I ignore the pang in my gut that comes from thinking of The Test ending. I’m not ready for that yet, and we still have ten days to go. “It’s not something you put in your day planner and color code with stickers.”
She giggles again, and I think I could do this forever. Not just cracking jokes on the phone to make her laugh, but this. This easy camaraderie and companionship filled with humor and banter and lots and lots of good sex.
“So, what’s up?” I ask, figuring I should get on with it before I go too far down that rabbit hole.
“Well, next week is my birthday.”
“Oh. Shit, I should have known that, huh?”
“No, no—that’s not what I meant. I’m not fishing for gifts or anything. I usually keep my birthday low-key. Maybe a spa getaway with my sisters or an overnight trip to some luxury resort.”
“That’s your idea of low-key?”
She sighs, but I can tell she’s not really pissed. How have I reached this point where I can read her demeanor over the phone without a single word?
“In honor of The Test, I had an idea for something I’d like to try for my birthday,” she says. “I was hoping you could help with that.”
“Sure,” I say, sitting up a little straighter. “Whatever you want. Anything.”
Jesus, Kensington. Desperate much?
I clear my throat and try to play it cool. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about roughing it.”
“Roughing it?” Visions of whips and chains swirl through my head, and I imagine Lisa tied spread-eagle on my bed with silk scarves.
“Not like that,” Lisa says, and I wonder if she’s read my thoughts. “Camping,” she says. “I’ve never gone camping, and I thought I’d like to try it.”
“Camping,” I repeat, erasing the spreader bars from my brain and replacing them with tent poles. “You’ve never been camping?”
“Not once. And you seem like the kind of guy who’d know how.”
“There’s not much to it, really,” I say. “Just throw a tent and some sleeping bags in the car, pack a cooler with camping food, and head out into the wilderness.”
“That sounds so—exotic.”
I smile to myself, charmed by how easy it is to impress her. To introduce her to something totally mundane and have her experience it for the first time. Forget the antiquated triumph of deflowering some simpering virgin. The thrill of de-virginizing Lisa with an array of new life experiences beats that hands down.
“So how about next weekend?” I suggest, restraining myself from suggesting we jump in the car right this second and drive off into the mountains together. “Are you free?”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. My birthday is Saturday, and I like the idea of falling asleep under the stars.”
I picture myself there beside her, the two of us snuggled up inside sleeping bags zipped together. Her bare ass is cradled spoon-style against me, and her hair smells like campfire.
I tell myself to knock it off when I catch myself inhaling.
“That sounds perfect,” I say. “I have all the gear—tent, sleeping bags, air mattress, camp stove—the whole works. I’ll even get the sleeping bags dry cleaned before we head out.”
“Oh,” she says, like the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “You have a pair of sleeping bags. Does one of them belong to Kaitlyn or something?”
I bark out a laugh, not sure if I’m more surprised she remembers my ex’s name or at the idea of Kaitlyn going camping.
“Kaitlyn has definitely never been camping,” I tell her. “You’re one up on her there.”
And in so many other ways, I think but don’t say.
“Well. Okay, that’s good. I mean—I’m glad.” She sounds flustered, and I think about how strange this must be for her. In a quest for new experiences, is she ever worried about losing herself?
“I can bring the camping food,” she offers. “I have a cooler I’ve taken to potlucks, and there’s this great cookbook I found on haute cuisine for campfires.”
“Is that a fancy way of saying hot dogs?”
“No hot dogs,” she says. “But I definitely have a surprise or two planned.”
My heart speeds up, and I wonder what she has in mind. Is it sexy, culinary, or something else entirely?
Truthfully, I don’t care. I’m just excited to spend a whole weekend with her.
Keep it together, I remind myself. Don’t get carried away.
Deep down, I think it might be too late for that.
I think I’m falling for Lisa Michaels.