Alejandro closed and locked his bedroom door behind him. But then he remembered how many times his younger brothers had burst into his room when they were teenagers, even when he was certain he’d locked it, and he started searching for something heavy enough to keep them out. It took a bit more effort than he remembered, but he managed to push the heavy wood dresser he’d had his entire life in front of it and prayed it would be enough.

Once that was handled, he excitedly grabbed his laptop from his old desk, settled onto the full bed that had been too small for him since middle school, and logged into Skype. He smiled when he saw the small green button next to Deja’s avatar and pressed the call button.

Alejandro had to force himself to breathe evenly while the call rang out and rang out and rang out. He frowned at his computer screen and then snatched his phone from the desk. He checked the time. Six o’clock. They said they’d talk at six his time, eight for her. He checked his text messages, just in case he’d missed a message saying she couldn’t make it.

He hadn’t, and his frown deepened.

He was just about to call Deja, his finger hovering over her name in his cell phone contacts when she picked up on Skype.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m here,” she said.

His eyes drifted back to his laptop screen, where he had a great view of her light pink comforter and white pillows against the light rattan wood of her headboard. Even though he was happy she’d picked up, he was annoyed because he hadn’t called to see her bed, even though he’d never actually been over to her apartment, and a few weeks ago, he’d have killed to know what it looked like. But it had been weeks since he’d left Centreville, and he wanted to see her, desperately.

“Deja?” he said, and then a soft, fluttery gray silk something fluttered into the frame of the camera.

Alejandro’s entire body froze when he saw Deja’s leg rest onto her mattress.

“I’m here. I’m here,” she said, “just give me a second.”

He nodded and stared at the soft crease of her bent leg. The past three weeks had gone by in a flash, so fast that it was only in this moment that he processed that it had been three weeks since he’d run his hands and lips up that thigh. Three weeks since he’d sank balls deep inside her. It wasn’t that long, considering how long they’d crushed on each other, and yet, it suddenly felt like an eternity.

He absentmindedly reached for the bottle of beer on his desk and took a swig, his eyes drinking in Deja’s brown skin while he waited for her to come fully on-screen.