Page 48 of The ABCs of You & Me

“You mentioned that in your texts. You’ve got no reason to be sorry,” he says gently as he sits.

“I do, though. I disappeared and that wasn’t cool.”

“As you said, you’ve been busy.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t been that busy. I just didn’t know what to say after Sunday. I’ve been avoiding you.” I clamp my jaw shut so nothing else escapes. I know once I get talking about things I won’t be able to stop, and I’ve never been someone who likes to have honest conversations on the phone. I need to be in the same room as the other person, otherwise I become hyper-focused on what their body language could be saying. Which, let’s be real, I’m going to do regardless, but at least if I can see all of them, I do a lot less spiraling.

“Are you done avoiding me now?” he asks slowly, leaning forward.

“I am,” I confirm.

“Do you want to talk about it?” It’s so easy to see why his students adore him. Even the ones who have outbursts eventually come around when Foster is the one sent in to defuse the situation.

“One day, but not today.”

“Well, I’m here whenever you want to.”

We sit there for a few seconds looking at one another, and it’s then that I see that underneath the sweat and wind-burned skin, Foster looks as tired as he had the week of the concert.

“Rough week?”

“Do I look that bad?”

“Not bad, just tired.”

“Same thing,” he counters. He runs his hand through his hair, the sweaty strands sticking up at new angles. “I haven’t been sleeping well, and we’re down two EAs this week.”

It seems selfish to feel guilty—the not sleeping well may have nothing to do with me—but guilt seeps in all the same.

“I didn’t know.”

Foster shrugs and then stretches his neck. “It’s not like you could fix it, Soph. No need to apologize.”

“I know, but I could have at least been a sounding board for you.”

He stops stretching and stares through the camera. I can feel the heat of his gaze. “And I could have reached out. Should I be sorry that I didn’t?”

“No.”

“So no one needs to be sorry.” His expression relaxes and his lips turn up at the corners. “Cass told me she’s going to Easter at your parents this year.”

“Yeah, she told me too. Does that change your plans?”

“No, I want to spend some time with my grandmother, and my mom told me she’s been complaining about forgetting what I look like.” He chuckles as he stands, the lighting changing and shadowing his face. “Sorry, I’ve gotta get out of this shirt. It’s drenched, and now I’m freezing.” He tosses the phone, and it bounces a bit so I assume it landed on his bed. When it settles, I can just make him out. I freeze when I realize what he’s about to do. I should look away, give him some privacy. He likely doesn’t realize that the phone did not land flat.

But I don’t look away. Instead my eyes are glued to him as he reaches over his shoulder and pulls his shirt up and over his head in one fluid motion. Why is that maneuver so fucking hot? I haven’t seen Foster’s body since we were kids, and while I can’t really get a good look now, I can see that his arms are not the only area tattooed. He picks the phone back up and I’m greeted by his face again. No complaints, but lord help me, this is going to be such a distraction whenever I see him in clothes now. I’m going to want to study every line he has drawn on his skin.

I can see some dark lines right below his collarbone and realize he didn’t put a shirt back on. “I thought you were cold?” I tease.

“I’m not putting something on when I’m about to go shower.”

My mind is spinning out of control. Probably because I haven’t done anything sexual in months. But one tiny glimpse of Foster shirtless, and I’m ready to scream “fuck it” while running to his apartment, stripping as I go.

Because my mind is fracturing in real time, I don’t know how I manage to piece a sentence together, let alone the one that leaves my mouth. “I can come with you to Easter, if you want. Then we can go to my parents’ after. It’ll knock E off our list.”

Foster’s smile is radiant. “Really?”

Sure. Maybe. No. Yes. Absolutely.“Why not? E is for efficiency.”

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