I even get brave enough to ask him to Skype with me when we can make the time work. I have no idea where he is, only that my letter has to be rerouted from his base to get to him.
I’m giddy as I sign the letter and slip it into an envelope. I’m still so young, yet I’ve always felt much older, which makes me feel silly because the worst thing to happen to me is my parents divorcing. But then I remember how often I was left on my own to raise myself.
With a sigh, my thoughts circle the drain as I avoid studying. Becoming a teacher has been a life-long goal, but I can’t seem to focus for longer than a class.
Flopping back on my bed, I imagine a future where Steele and I work out. One where we have children and get our happy ending. We’re a family. A real one, too, not one like mine where it was all for show.
Closing my eyes, I see it clearly. A little boy and a little girl, looking just like Steele, a sweet golden retriever, and a cute little cat. White picket fence and all.
It’s what I want. What I crave.
Chapter 6
Steele
“Yo! That was brutal, Lieutenant.” Garth bitches next to me as we play a game of basketball. Our unit has a few days of R&R before we begin an intelligence-gathering mission with a team of SEALs.
“Ain’t my fault you can’t play for shit.”
“You got the height, though,” he grumbles as we walk to the bench and grab some water. Wiping down my face and chest, I guzzle half a bottle and notice the mail truck arriving. “You got mail on there?” he asks with a smirk. Likely knowing I’m anticipating another letter from Ava.
I shrug and stride back to my tent, trying to keep my steps light.
It’s a full hour before I have any mail delivered, and I’m getting antsy. As soon as I’m handed the box, I barely wait for the guy to leave before I’m tearing into it.
More treats, more pictures. Fuck, is Ava’s smile addicting. Pinning the images to the board behind my desk, I drop into the chair and open the letter.
Dear Steele,
Alright, complete strangers, it is.
Hi! My name is Ava Fischer. I’m 19, and I attend UC Berkeley as an English major. I aspire to become a teacher after graduation. I love long walks under a clear night sky, swimming, and basketball. I’m known to go hiking once in a while but avoid it if I can.
I adore reading true crime novels and recently finished a chilling version of Jack the Ripper and the conspiracies on his true identity. Oddly enough, I’ve heard more than once that some people think Jack and the Zodiac Killer could be related, and if that’s not terrifying, then I don’t know what is.
So I guess that went a little deeper than I meant to.
I’m not a serial killer in the making, I swear. They fascinate me, though. There is so much to learn about why a person can kill with no remorse and continue to do so. Are they made that way, or are they born that way?
I just got even creepier, didn’t I? Sorry. Not intended.
Like you, I dream of a family one day. Husband, children, animals, nice house. I have dreams of that quintessential family life.
I think we could be incredible together, Steele, and if you’re interested, maybe we could Skype? I love writing to you, but I hate the wait in between. I guess there’s always email, though?
My Skype info is on the back if you want to.
Talk to you soon.
Love,
Ava
Booting up my computer, I don’t even think about the time difference and immediately call Ava on my secure line. She gave me the go-ahead, and I have zero desire to wait to see her.
It rings three times before she answers.
“Didn’t scare you off then?” She yawns as a light turns on.
“Shit. What time is it there?” Doing the calculations in my head, I wince. “Sorry, Ava, go back to sleep.” Fuck, I’m an ass.
“No, Steele, it’s fine.” My dick jumps at hearing her say my name. “I don’t have any classes in the morning. I don’t mind staying up to talk to you.” Her sleepy smile makes me wish I could kiss her.
“You sure? You can call me back later,” I offer while hoping she says she’ll stay.
“Positive.” I watch as she sits up in bed and puts the laptop on her legs. “Have you tried the cookies yet?” she asks with a grin.
“Cookies?” I didn’t even look at what she sent.
Her giggle cheers up the room. “Yes, Steele. Peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, banana bread with almonds, carrot muffins, and chocolate croissants. All made from scratch.”
“You trying to make me fat?” I grin as I dig through the box, finding the muffins. Pulling one out of the sealed bag, I take a big bite and moan at the flavor. “Damn, girl. These are good.”
“Yeah?” I nod at her uncertainty. “Good. I was worried they might dry out. What else do you like? I can send more things.”
“You,” I mutter around another bite, leaning back in my seat. Her shocked face is, precisely, what I wanted. “Would it be too forward of me to ask what you’re wearing?”
Her eyes widen as she looks from me to down at the blanket covering her chest. “Probably.” Even through the screen, I can hear the heat in her tone.
Leaning forward, I allow my eyes to wander down what I can see of her body. “I’m asking anyways.” I was kidding at first, wanting to tease her. But now, I’m dying to see what she’s got on. I have a feeling she could make a paper bag sexy.
Twisting her lips from side to side, Ava nods her head, and I sit closer. “But you should know, I’m not wearing this because I thought you were going to call.” Standing up with the blanket pressed to her chest, she places her laptop on a solid surface, and once I can see her full length, she drops the blanket to the ground.
I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Chapter 7
Ava
For the past three weeks, Steele and I have video chatted at least three times a week, and I’ve realized what I felt for him before was still a schoolgirl’s crush. It had to be. Because the emotions I’m experiencing now are way more intense. More poignant.
I miss him. Ache for him on a soul-deep level. I worry late into the night until I pass out from exhaustion, and what makes everything so much worse is that I’m terrified to say the words I didn’t understand were true until we connected.
At the end of every call, I want to say I love you. I want him to know. But I chicken out at the last second, and then it’s too late; he’s gone, and I’m left disappointed in myself for not having the guts to speak truth to what I feel.
Shaking my head, I need to concentrate on what my professor is saying before I daydream myself right out of school. I record each class so that I can relisten should I miss something even though I’m taking notes. It’s helped a lot the last couple of weeks.
There are hundreds of students in this class, so I don’t think anything of it when the door opens. Not even when I see the military uniform, dark, close-cropped hair I’ve been dreaming about, or the bouquet of flowers.
It’s not until my name is called that I look at the face of the newcomer and nearly melt in my chair.