“Devin?” Jessie’s confused voice calls out to me.

“Yeah,” I answer. The line goes silent. I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure the call is still connected. Yep, still ticking along. I hold the phone up to my ear again and hear Jessie’s soft laugh. My chest gets tight and I run my fingers through my hair.

“I guess I should be flattered you called.”

I groan.

“Oh no. That’s your annoyed groan. What’s up, Big Man?” Her words are labored and her breath is coming fast, like she’s working out.

“Where are you?” I sound like a possessive douche.

“On campus. Missing me, aren’t you?” The teasing lilt in her voice is obnoxious as fuck. I grunt. She giggles. “I miss you too,” she adds. Her voice is playful, but soft and breathy, like she’s whispering confessions to me. In bed. I close my eyes and focus on the sound.

The line goes silent again, but this time I know she’s still there. There’s a rustling then a long sigh.

“Well, then. It’s been fun not talking to you—”

“I need you at the shop,” I croak out.

“Need? I’m blushing.”

If she was in front of me, I would kiss the hell out of that sassy mouth. I run my hand down my face to wipe off the stupid grin.

“Your system is a pain in my ass.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have shoved it up there,” she deadpans.

I groan. She giggles. Our usual.

“I know I haven’t been around the shop much. I’ve had to catch up on a lot here on campus. I’ve got a dodgeball game—”

“Dodgeball? How old are you?”

“Oh, hush. Not all of us were born a cranky old man.” There’s more rustling before she shouts, “I’m coming!”

She lets out a little sigh. “I’ve got a very adult game of dodgeball. Then I’ll come see about that ass of yours. Alleviate the pain in those buns of steel. See you soon, Big Man.”

She hangs up before I say anything. The itch that’s been driving me crazy all week settles and I get back to finding that damn ten-millimeter socket.

A few hours later, Jessie bounces into the service bays like they’re her own personal playground. She’s wearing cut-off jean shorts and a loose white T-shirt. A long silver necklace draws my eyes down her chest, where I can just make out the bright pink bra barely containing those beautiful tits. Her sunshine-colored hair isn’t up in its usual high ponytail. It’s down and wild. The soft waves flow over her shoulders, held back by bright red-framed sunglasses perched on her head. She looks like spring, fresh and luscious. As usual, there is a wide smile on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eye. It takes all my willpower not to smile at her, too.

“Have no fear, people. Your digital savior is here,” she sings through the space, and everyone stops what they’re doing and turns to look.