Long-Distance Coffee by Emma Sterner-Radley

Author:Emma Sterner-Radley [Sterner-Radley, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ylva-Publishing
Published: 2017-10-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Seeing Her Face, at Last

Once again, it had taken Erin ages to get to sleep, but this time she was sure it wasn’t her insomnia. It was the excitement and fear of seeing Isabella again.

Of actually seeing Isabella and having Isabella see her as well.

She’d jumped out of bed at 9 a.m., forced down breakfast, and showered. She applied some discreet makeup: foundation, mascara, and a little blush—nothing over the top. She dressed in her Sunday-stay-at-home clothes. Then changed into something dressier for the video chat. Then changed again, before finally settling on a stretchy but figure-hugging flannel shirt and a pair of skinny jeans.

She wanted to look good but not as if she’d made an effort. Then she remembered she was supposed to demonstrate stretches. The skinny jeans had to go. She considered exercise gear but decided there was no point in it for the purpose of just demonstrating a few simple poses.

She tore through her wardrobe for something that was flattering but still stretchy. A pair of dark blue jeggings she’d only worn once fit the bill. She pulled them on and practiced the stretches she planned to show Isabella to check that the jeggings would allow for full movement. It pleased her that looking in the mirror informed her just how good her ass looked in them. It wasn’t as perfectly rounded as Isabella’s, but it was tight as hell.

She poured a cup of coffee and munched down two carrots while she waited. She mused that her nervous chewing must make her look like Bugs Bunny.

Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she looked down at her chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She never did on weekends, unless she was going out of course—one of the perks of having small breasts. They didn’t need the support system.

Her plaid flannel shirt hid most of the outline of her breasts, but she wondered if the fabric would be thick enough to hide it if her nipples got hard? She swore at herself. It was warm in here, and she was just going to talk to someone and show her some simple exercises. “Chill, you perv,” she muttered into her mug of coffee.

Time crept at a snail’s pace toward 11 a.m.

Finally, Erin threw herself at the laptop, already booted up and waiting for the last forty-five minutes. She’d also checked the camera and the sound quality on a two-minute video chat with Erika, who was rooting for her and had made Erin promise to let her know how it went.

Erin’s stomach felt like it was full of butterflies—drunk, crazy butterflies—all over the place and flying into each other. She felt queasy.

When her laptop blared out the Skype ringtone, she froze, staring at the little square that informed her IsabellaMartinez1 was calling. She swallowed thickly, wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs, and answered. The screen switched to a camera view of a light, sun-drenched room with a woman front and center.

The camera showed Isabella wearing a V-neck, black T-shirt, and what looked like the waistband of black yoga pants.

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