THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,101

door is locked, which means I slid a heavy box in front of it and I kicked everyone off the wifi in our hallway just to make sure the picture would be clear.

More stomach flipping. I smile the hugest smile and no one can even see it.

WinnieF: I miss you. I want to see your face.

Old school ringing blasts through my computer speakers. Accept or Decline boxes pop up on my screen. Please…as if there were ever a question. Click. A medium sized black box pops up in the center of my screen and my pulse skitters like crazy. I narrow my eyes and watch closely for the Nano-second when Maverick’s face appears. I realize he might be able to see me first so I make sure to smile. I cross my legs underneath me and take a deep breath. Maverick’s hairy face appears and it’s fuzzy at first, but grows clearer.

“I see you!” I squeal, clapping my hands together. His huge smile appears a few seconds later because of the delay.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Win. I can’t believe we haven’t done this yet. I need to see you all the time. Like this.” He reaches a hand out, like he’s trying to touch me and brings it down again.

I frown. “I can’t see your gorgeous dimples under all that hair,” I admonish. It looks kind of hot in a way that only a person insanely in love could rationalize. “Will it hurt to kiss you with all of that?” I ask. Maverick laughs, leaning back in his chair. His shirt is off. If I squint I can make out my tattoo on his chest. A part of me is with him there. My heart squeezes a little.

His full lips, because I can still see those, form a line. “What did you think of my last e-mail?” Maverick asks. I know what he wants from me. Assurance. Taking into account the delay, I start speaking before he even finishes his question.

“You couldn’t scare me off even if you were a bearded, trained killer…oh, wait.” I laugh and then finish, “Maverick, I’m glad you were honest with me, but it doesn’t matter what happened in your past. We’re moving on to the future. Our future together. Everyone has things in their past they wish they could erase—some more than others. You don’t have to worry. Okay?” He shakes his head with a little smile on his face. I continue, “I won’t worry either.”

“How did I get so lucky?” The screen pixelates for a second, but I see him again a few seconds later.

“I’m asking myself the same question right now, Mr. Shirtless hulking eighth wonder of the world.” I bite my lip, only because I know it drives him nuts. It used to be a bad habit to keep from talking back to my mother, now I use it purely for seduction.

“Speaking of shirtless. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in that state,” Maverick admits. The lip bite had the intended effect. I laugh and point the laptop camera at my very black, very see through, very lacy slip camisole. Maverick whistles, folding his arms behind his head. I aim the screen back at my face.

“I thought you might like it,” I say. Maverick’s smile fades, though I can barely tell with all the facial hair. “What’s the matter?” His hands still perched behind his head, he merely stares at his computer screen.

“I just wish I was there…that’s all,” he sighs.

Oh, how I wish he were here too. Seeing his face and knowing how far away he is makes me miss him that much more.

“I knew I’d miss you, but your face…right there,” he says reaching for the screen. “I didn’t think it’d make me so…homesick. For you.”

The sadness hangs between us, somewhere in cyberspace, or in the atmosphere both here and in Afghanistan. It’s weird. It has a tangible quality to it. I can’t touch Maverick, but the sadness is wholly formed and ready to be grasped. I don’t want it to seep into this brief time I have with him and ruin it.

“Hey, I’m right here. We can Skype each other as much as your pervy friends let us. Tell them to curb their porn addiction so you can see your girlfriend.” I slip the strap of my camisole off one shoulder. His lopsided grin appears a second later.

“I like the sound of that. The girlfriend part. Not the pervy friends part.” He leans forward