Call Me

by Gillian Jones

  “What? I was just making sure we were safe is all.”

  I want to kiss the shit out of that sassy mouth of hers.

  “No, seriously, Ace. What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for you. There wasn’t a chance I was letting you walk home alone, and I felt like a coffee. Heard you were going.” I step in closer to her, my nose immediately pleased to be reunited with its favourite scent. Her.

  “And you assumed I wanted your company?”

  “I know you do. As much as I want yours.” I run my gloved finger along my bottom lip.

  “Ace.” She looks all around us again.

  “Ellie,” I imitate her. “We need to talk, E. Seriously, I think we need to discuss us. This.” I gesture between us.

  “Us?” she questions. “Whatever do you mean, Professor?”

  “Yeah, E. Us. I mean, I think we both feel the same way.” I step closer, then take a quick look around us before leaning down to meet her ear. “Well, at least I hope you feel this too.”

  Thankfully, exhaling, she agrees. “I feel it. So much. Sometimes I worry it’s unhealthy how much I feel it. I’m freezing. Let’s go talk,” she nods, giving me a heart-pounding grin.

  Now to make her agree with my proposition.

  Chapter 37

  Ellie

  “I’ll get right to the point,” Ace says, placing both of our lattes on the table I’d found for us while Ace insisted he buy our drinks. Suddenly, I find my hands sweaty and my heart making its way up my throat.

  Did we really both admit to feeling this pull between us? Or is the December cold freezing my brain cells?

  “Ellie, are you listening to me?”

  “What? Sorry?”

  He smirks. “I said I’ll get right to the point.”

  “Yes. Right. By all means.” I pick up the wonderfully hot mug, appreciating its warmth as it thaws my frozen hands.

  “Look, I like you. For some reason, you affect me. I like being around you and I want more time with you. I’d like to get to know you, see where this could go. There. No more hot and cold,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Wow, you have such a way with words. Could that have been anymore robotic, Wall-E? For a film guy, that sounded pretty lacklustre.” I place a hand over my heart, having set the mug down for the full effect.

  “Sorry. But I’ve wanted to say that for a while now. The thought of being interrupted made me rush it.” He holds my gaze, the sincerity I see making me feel bad for teasing him. “In my head, it was much more eloquent. Honest.” His nervous smile and that bloody dimple on his right cheek help to convince me.

  God, this man could be my undoing.

  “Take two?” I say, glancing around us. Thankfully, it’s just he and I sitting in the back right now.

  He nods.

  “And…action,” I call, leaning in closer to the table.

  “Ellie. I like you. Aside from being the hottest woman I think I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, your intelligence is mesmerizing, and your brain is sexy as hell. The way you look when you’re passionate about something makes my body yearn to be closer to you, to be on the receiving end of that force—that look. You surprise me with your brilliance and make my cock hard with your quick wit, especially when you demand that I hear you out. And please note, I do hear you, but it seems I have a one-track mind where you’re involved. I’m sorry but I do. My brain can only focus on all the ways to make you mine. You are the trifecta: beauty, brains and wit, all in one hell of a package.”

  I sit back, my mouth surely agape. I think I blink a few times—maybe even close my eyes for a minute—before opening them, checking to be sure he’s actually sitting across from me. No-one has ever said anything remotely close to that about me before. Lucky for me, each time I reopen my eyes he’s still right across from me, camel-coloured button-up shirt enhancing those already piercing green eyes, waiting for my response. Would mounting him in The Froth House send the right message?

  “Better?” he says a bit cockily, knowing it was pretty damned epic.

  “Was all right,” I shrug, despite a huge grin escaping.

  “I did make some great points, did I not?”

  “Indeed.” I pause, shake my head. “Okay, first things first, I need to get this off my chest before we talk about ‘us’. I need to pre-book my advisor meetings with you moving forward. I’ve been avoiding you and me in confined spaces. And this typing up everything I have to ask you in an email is killing me.” I rub my wrists, feigning carpal tunnel syndrome. “We will have to make sure we stay focused,” I add for clarity.

  “We, eh? Who’s to say I wasn’t always focused on the tasks at hand? It’s all becoming clear now, though. I was wondering why our communication had turned to strictly emails. You do like me, Ms. Hughes.” He gives me a devious grin.

  “Ace.” I give him a dirty look, which only makes his smile bigger.

  “What? It’s perfect. I’d like to make steady appointments with you too,” he says, and I roll my eyes.

  “Not like that. Wellll, not yet, anyway…” I add, gaining a full-on smile.

  “Soon, I hope. I’ve thought about you and me in my office. A lot,” he tells me in a low, gravelly tone, one which sends tingles down my spine.

  “Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “Now tell me the rest of your thoughts,” he says, leaning in even closer.

  “Okay, well, I agree that I am pretty brilliant,” I say, to break the lust-induced spell he’s putting me under.

  “E,” he huffs, “what about the other stuff? The me and you bit.”

  “Give me a minute. I’m thinking here. That was a lot to take in. It’s not everyday that a girl gets a gorgeous man giving her a speech like that. Allow process time.” I rub my hand along my chin.

  “You think I’m gorgeous?” Ace smirks. The bastard knows full well I do.

  “Definitely.” My eyes move over each of his facial features, noting how handsome Ace Ryan truly is, before moving back to his lips. Lips I can’t wait to get my own on. Feeling brave, I ask, “Would I get to kiss you, if we did this?” I gesture between us. “I’ve got to be honest. You’ve got the sexiest lips. I’ve imagined how’d they feel moving into mine probably a million times, wondered if the friction would be as all-consuming and hot as I imagined.”

  “Christ. If we’re going to start this, we’re going to need ground rules. I can’t be walking around campus with a hard-on all day. People will think I’m weird,” he says, his hands disappearing under the table, and I burst out laughing. “First rule—” he begins, but I interrupt him.

  “The first rule of Fight Club is…” I laugh, imitating his deep serious voice, “You’re so serious-sounding. You make it seem like what we’re talking about doing here is completely illegal or something, Ace.”

  “Well, it isn’t like I can sing about liking and wanting to date you from the bleachers like I’m Heath Ledger now, can I? Not if I want to keep my job.”

  “You want to date me? Like date, date?”

  “Of course I do. I thought I was clear about that. Do I need to find a bleacher to perform on tomorrow, Ellie?”

  “Gah…no. That would be so cool, but I imagine it might not go over very well with the other students or the chair, though, eh? But, God, that would be so hot. I’d definitely need to kiss you after that.”

  “Right there, that is precisely why we need rules so we don’t get caught, at least not until after you graduate.”

  “I agree. We do need a few rules and maybe some clarity.”

  “Clarity. What aren’t you sure about, E?”

  Looking around again, I’m suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed to ask what I need clarification about. I want to know if we’re going to be exclusive. I mean, look at the man, there’s no way he’ll limit himself to only getting to know me. Right?

  “Ellie, what is it, sweetheart?”

  “Uh, er…” I pause for a beat before blurting out. “Will you be dat
ing other people while we do this? I mean, I get that you might, but I want to be clear so I know if I should date too. Or not.” I feel my cheeks heat at the question.

  “Not a chance. I’m not sharing you, I’ll barely get to see you enough as it is. Why, are you seeing someone else? Shit. I never thou—”

  I stop him. “No, Ace. I only want you. I mean, to get to know you.” I offer an impish smile; again, no doubt my cheeks are like cherry tomatoes.

  “Okay, now that we’ve settled that, I think we’re going to need to address some of those ground rules I was talking about. Because right about now, seeing that flush on your cheeks, all I can think about is coming over there. I’m curious to see where else I can make you flush. We’d better get back to rule-making.”

  “I can’t wait to kiss you!” I blurt, but it’s true, and he’s being completely adorable right now.

  “Number one. You cannot say shit like that about kissing me on campus. It’s going to be the death of me knowing I can’t.”

  I try to stifle a giggle at the pained look on his face. “Right, sorry. I don’t want to kiss you.”

  “Jesus, you’re going to kill me, aren’t you? I think you like driving me crazy, Ms. Hughes.”

  “Whatever. I’ll be good. I promise. All right, what should our next rule be?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the sleek tabletop.

  “As hard as it will be for you to resist me, there should be no touching each other while on campus, either,” he offers, that damn dimple leading the way.

  “You’re right. That one’s going to kill me,” I laugh. “In all seriousness, that is an important one. I agree, we need to be careful. I’m close to graduating and you’re still new here. There’s no sense bringing on any unwanted issues for either of us. But I think our no touching rule is a bit unrealistic. Maybe we could have a no sex rule until we know we can safely be together? But we can still kiss and maybe have a little over-the-clothing foreplay? I mean, we’re going to want to fool around a bit while we get to know each other, right? In private, of course,” I add, and Ace nods, a satisfied look on his face.

  “Good, that was easy,” he nods, pleased with my compromise. “Knowing I’ll get to touch you on our dates will hold me off, I hope.”

  “‘Dates’?”

  He all-out laughs at this point. “Yeah, E. I do plan on taking you out from time to time; the point here is to get to know each other. We’ll have to be creative, and find some safe places for us to be with each other. Thankfully, Toronto is huge; it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Glad you’ve thought of everything.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, E. I needed to have it figured out. There was no way I could let you tell me no.” He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

  Smiling, I bring up the one thing that still weighs on my mind about this arrangement. “No favouritism. You can’t show me any kind. I don’t expect an A grade, unless I deserve it. This is a non-negotiable.” I meet his eyes, hoping he sees how serious I am.

  “Trust me, E. I don’t give out easy A’s. I’ll probably be harder on you, anyway. I have high expectations for that paper of yours.”

  “No pressure, of course.” I shake my head, “As long as you’re fair, I think I’ll meet your expectations. The last thing I want is an A because I rode your casting couch.”

  “Casting couch, that’s new.” His shoulders shake with laughter.

  “I need your Red Pen of Sorrow to give me detailed notes about my hits and misses on all my work.”

  “‘Red Pen of Sorrow’, eh? I like it. I’m that tough of a grader? Does my red pen offend?” he asks in jest.

  “You do realize we all hand in our work on white paper, yes? Have you noticed that once you’re finished marking them, they tend to take on a pinkish hue?”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever paid attention.”

  “Court’s papers from Jax never come back looking that way. Maybe I should have him as my TA?” My shoulders shake at the mock look of hurt on his face.

  “Not a chance. You’re stuck with me,” he jokes, taking a sip of his coffee.

  After a few moments of silence, Ace looks at me with sincerity and asks if I think I need a new advisor now. All joking aside, he said he could ask Sam to take me on, since Sam was the one with the least amount of people in his group. The fact that Ace offered made me fall that much more.

  Of course, being the teasing shit I am, I pushed his buttons with my reply: “Why don’t we wait and see how things go between us, then decide? We might not even like each other that much.”

  “Oh no, Ellie. Make no mistake: we definitely like each other.” His eyes trail down to my chest where my nipples had been vying for his attention since we sat down. “If anything, I bet we only like one another more as time goes on.”

  “Hmm. What do you do in your spare time, Doctor Ryan?” I ask, trying to ignore the heat in his eyes.

  “I’m actually in the middle of wrapping up a documentary I’m entering in TIFF this year. It’s why I don’t have a lot of free time in my personal life at the moment and the main reason why I won’t always be free. You’ll have to be patient with me for a few more months.”

  Unable to contain myself, I more or less freak out with excitement like a fangirl. “Holy crap! That’s huge, TIFF! Ace. Congrats. It’s amazing! Tell me all about it. Can I help?” I clap my hands excitedly. “Are you getting grad students to assist? You need to let me help! What’s it about? Please tell me everything.” I move my chair closer to the table, showing him that he has my full attention (not that he’s ever lost it, really).

  I freeze as the words “sex trade” and “phone sex lines” fall from his lips.

  I begin to panic, my bad knee aching from the pressure of my feet digging into the floor. Does he know what I do? Holy shit, this has to be simply some insane coincidence. He can’t know, he’d say something, I’m sure. Wouldn’t he? Nah, there’s no way he could know. With that, I begin to relax, but remain guarded as he talks.

  “It’s been an amazing adventure, to say the least. I’m happy with where it’s going.” Ace’s voice helps to bring me back from panic mode.

  “That’s incredible, I can’t wait to see it,” I say honestly, because it does sound like it will be one of those documentaries that is going to have a definite impact.

  We spend the next few hours discussing Ace’s project, how he’s investigating the intrusion of the digital age into the sex industry. I was completely fascinated and literally smitten listening to him exude passion for his film. At one point, however, I have to admit I felt a little guilty for not telling him that I would be a perfect subject for his documentary. But, seeing as I’d never agree to be filmed and the fact that he sounds like he’s almost finished, I decided to let the guilt go and to keep my secret, especially since I’ll be quitting soon. Besides, it’s not like we’re a couple or anything, really—not yet, anyway. I’m hoping we will be soon, but in the meantime, I can still keep a few secrets, right?

  Lying in bed later, I can’t keep the smile from returning to my lips when I think about how Ace took the elevator up with me and walked me to my apartment door. I knew he wanted to kiss me, and Holy Mother Hubbard in Her Cupboard did I want him to. Instead, he walked away, leaving me disappointed. Well, until I’d put the key in the lock and then felt him at my back. A quiet “fuck it” made me turn to find Ace in front of me, an “I’ll take my chances” falling from his lips before they brushed against mine. A touch so soft I barely had time to register it before he whispered a sweet “see you ’round, E,” as he gave my hands a squeeze and walked away.

  “Rules schmules,” I mutter, brimming with happiness and reaching to shut off my bedside light.

  Chapter 38

  Ellie

  “Breathless Whispers, this is Chanel.”

  “Hey, babe. How’s it going tonight?” a deep voice greets.

  “I’m good, really good.” I reply softly. “You’ve got a very s
exy voice, sugar. It makes me tingly in all the right places. What’s your name?” I ask, while expertly matching five candies in a row, which has now created a colour bomb, heck, yes! This is sure to earn me a high score for this level in Candy Crush.

  “Oh yeah? You’re sounding pretty sexy yourself. Name’s Hale. What are you up to tonight?” Pausing my game of Candy Crush, I take a deep breath, trying to think of a good scenario to share with Hale. I hate to say it but sometimes this job is boring. As much as the calls differentiate, in the end they’re all pretty much the same. Trying to think of original stories and fantasies is trying sometimes, more so because if I recycled the same material I’d surely go batshit crazy from boredom. For me, the challenge of thinking up new material keeps the job fun and me on my toes. Looking back on the last few months, it’s funny how comfortable I’ve become. Greta and Destiny were right; it’s definitely easy money. I can pretty much get a caller off in under four minutes if I want, but of course I always go until I guarantee the customer their “happy ending”. Who’d have thought I would have lasted this long, or that I’d come to like my job? Not me, that’s for sure.

  “What are you doing tonight, Chanel?”

  “You want to know the truth? Do you think you can handle hearing how bad a girl I am?” I ask him, deciding on the perfect story for Hale.

  “Yeah. Tell me. You know a real man can handle—and only ever wants—the truth. Right? And we all love a dirty girl,” he drawls.

  Oh please! “You can’t haaandle the truth”; Jack Nicholson’s voice as Colonel Jessup from A Few Good Men pops into my mind. Imagine if I could tell some of these callers what I really thought of their fetishes or insane penchants, or better yet, how I think they really need to go out and get a life, to stop paying for my made-up stories? But, then again, I wouldn’t have a job now, would I? And we all know I need this job.

  “Okay, don’t judge me. It really is kind of naughty. I’ve been a bit of a dirty girl, I’m afraid.”

  “Yeah? Tell me. I’d never judge, sweetheart.”