A Very Welcome Phone Call

“John,” Gemma said. “Why are you doing this to me?”

You laughed, shaking your head as your heart thudded hard in your chest at hearing your girlfriend’s voice. It was just before lunch for you, which meant it was late for her, but she’d been texting you and Sabrina that whole morning keeping you updated as she was out with Birdie drinking with her Uni friends. She’d already sent a couple of pictures, and Sabrina had been keeping her informed of Eric’s new love life developments.

“What am I doing, love?” you asked her. “And God it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Oooh, it’s good to hear your voice too, love,” Gemma groaned. She’d already gotten home and was on her wifi, so the only time limit you had was how long you could hang out in the office stairwell without someone ‘catching’ you. “Fuck, I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you sighed heavily.

“I miss your cock.”

“Gemma,” you chuckled.

“Well I do,” she laughed. “And your face. Fuck, I miss your face.”

“I’ll send you a picture when we’re done to prove it’s still here,” you said.

“Do it,” she sighed.

“Now, what am I doing to you?” you asked.

“Tell me what this Tommy thing is,” Gemma said. “How did this guy die? What’s his connection to Mosche? Why didn’t you know before now? Was it a secret, or just Mosche being Mosche? And while we’re on the topic of Mosche, how did he take you moving out? You told me he’s still with Iris but you didn’t give me all the details.”

You grinned to yourself, just listening to Gemma drunkenly ramble a bit. Her accent was stronger than when she’d left - probably from a combo of being back home and being tipsy.

“I’m going to find evidence for the Tommy thing and send it to you, love,” you said. “It was Mosche being Mosche and downplaying it, not thinking it was a big deal. Which was just as insane as the Tasha saga.”

“OK, but just tell me, and I promise I’ll not tell Sabrina,” Gemma said.

“Why do I feel like this is a double-cross mission you’ve been sent on by Sabrina?”

She giggled on the other end of the call. “Because it is. What if I send you a picture of my boobs? I just started my period and they look huge.”

You groaned. Before your relationships with Gemma and Sabrina you hadn’t even known that was a thing that happened. Boobs getting bigger had always been tied in your mind to pregnancy - you hadn’t realised the hormonal waves women rode every month could do it too.

And Gemma’s period-time boobs were fucking bonkers.

She laughed again. “OK, fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll send you a pic anyway because I love you.”

“Love you too, love,” you sighed.

“What about Mosche and Iris?”

“Still going. Like I texted you, I gave him a bit of the riot act in being better at communicating with her. And I think she’s clued in a bit that he can be bad at that based on some of the looks she’s had on her face. But she’s also young and latching onto him to get out from under her parents, so I have no clue where it will go and I’m kind of just washing my hands of it now.”

Gemma sighed, and you could hear her moving around on her end of the call, imagining her lying on her bed. “That’s probably for the best, I just worry she’ll end up like Tash. But she’s been warned. How is Tash? I text with her but it’s hard to get her feeling.”

“Tasha was great when I saw her and Becks on Saturday,” you said.

“Are they hooking up yet?”

Your split second of hesitation thankfully went unnoticed, likely only because your girlfriend had been drinking. “Not that I know,” you chuckled. “We definitely had fun though.”

“Good,” Gemma sighed. “I’m glad she’s good. And that she still has you and Sabrina. And Becks, now. How are you feeling after the weekend? I seriously can’t believe Emma tricked you and Sabrina into losing her virginity like that. What a little sneak!”

“I’m doing fine, love,” you said. “She was a bit more… more than Sabrina in her likes. But I adapted, and the weekend ended up good. I’m just a little worried that it might be more than agreed in her head. It’s gonna be a talk, I think.”

“Mmm, OK,” Gemma said, her voice drifting a little. “I trust you.”

“Thanks, love,” you said.

“I’m sleepy.”

“I can tell,” you chuckled. “Thanks for calling me. I miss your everything.”

“I miss your everything too,” she mumbled. “Fuck, I need to sleep, love. It’s so fuckin’ late.”

“Goodnight, Gemma,” you said softly.

“‘Night, love,” she sighed. “But I’ll take a pic of m’ boobs first.”

You snorted softly and sent her a kiss through the phone, and she sent one back and hung up.

It took you a minute, alone in the stairwell, to get yourself right again. Happy you’d had a minute to talk to her, sad she wasn’t there.

Then the text came in and you couldn’t help but snort and grin. It was Gemma, in bed, wearing one of your sweaters but with it pulled up and showing her tits. It came with the message, ‘Love you, Love.’

God, you missed her.

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