Page 70 of Leviticus
Crap.
Only a small handful of people had that number, and if they were calling me — not texting, calling me, at …
What time was it?
I glanced at the clock on the side table, reading the green numbers that read 2:30 a.m.
Christ, that was early. But if someone was calling me at that time of night, I needed to answer. I disentangled myself from my wife's body, careful not to wake her. I checked the side table, and Ruth's in search for my phone with no luck. Where was that little fucker?
"Ouch, fuck!" I cursed, instantly lowering my voice, mindful of my sleeping wife. I grabbed my big toe, like that would somehow sooth the throbbing I felt after stubbing the damn thing on the foot of the bed.
Ah, there it was! The glow of the phone screen was faintly visible through the pocket of my jeans, my clothes still strewn across the floor where we had thrown them earlier tonight. Just before we had gone to bed and I had edged her into a trembling, begging puddle of delicious, submissive goo. Christ, that had been fun.
The phone rang out again and I slipped the phone out of the pocket. Ollie.
"Hello?" I whispered into the phone.
"Jesus fuck! You are alive!" Ollie's exuberant voice rang out from the other line and I quickly covered the speaker as Ruth shifted in bed.
"Quiet, you idiot. Just a sec." I covered the ear piece again and made my way to Ruth's side of the bed. I kissed her forehead gently, seeing her wake just a little. "Sweetheart, I'll be right back. It's one of my brothers on the phone." I explained.
"Just hurry back and warm me again," she murmured half into the pillow.
"Gladly," I whispered, kissing her forehead again and drinking in the sight of that little sleepy smile. Shrugging on my robe, I made my way down to the office as to not disturb her further.
"Okay, Ollie. What is it?" I sighed, sitting myself in the oversized yellow chair and immediately wishing for a blanket. The nights were getting colder quickly.
"Well, whether you want to admit it or not, you have brothers who care about you," he scoffed, somehow sounding affronted and loving all in the same breath.
"Yes, I'm well aware," I muttered.
"First of all, what has you so grouchy?" he demanded.
"Um, it's 2:30 in the morning. You woke me up, asshole."
"Only because you haven't answered any of our texts in days!" he pushed right back. I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked my phone. Well, fuck. It looked like I had missed a few texts from each of my brothers over the last few days.
"Oh. Um, sorry..." I stammered out, only half caring.
"Um, sorry? No. We were worried about you!" he cried out dramatically.
"Jesus, Ollie. It's not like something could have happened. I was here. In my home. It's my honeymoon," I laughed humorlessly.
"Um, not true. You could have been murdered," he insisted. I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity.
"And who exactly would murder me?"
"Um, your wife! How do we know she's not crazy?" He shot back. I knew he wasn't serious but it didn't stop the need to protect her from rising within me.
"Don't talk about my wife that way." My voice was low, borderline threatening, although I hadn't meant to have such a strong reaction.
"Well, well, well! What do we have here? Let's see. A brother who is newly married, won't return calls on end, and gets big-man-rawr-pants when I talk about his wife. Hmm..." he trailed off.
"Watch it, Ollie," I warned.
"Could it be? No, it simply cannot be true! Is my own brother in loveth?" My eyes rolled back in my head at Ollie's words so hard that I swore I could see my own brain synapsis.
"Oh Christ Almighty," I muttered, putting my head in my hands.
