Wrong Number

Chapter 12

"I had the weirdest dream last night," Luke's rough morning voice says idly into the receiver.

"Oh yeah? What about?" I ask, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

"Mm well, you know my friend Calum?" He says with ease.

"Mhm," I hum back.

It's weird now to hear the difference in his tone when telling me things. Before he would have paused and stumbled on how to even say that simple sentence while also not using his friend's actual full name.

I'm still getting used to the knowing about things. Granted there was still some things he hasn't budged on yet, like the name of his band, what he looks like and singing for me. He even refuses to let me hear any of their songs but I'm sure I can eventually get it out of him some way.

"Well I dreamt he had boobs and it was weird because everything else about him was the same except the boobs part," Luke rambles sleepily-amazed with his own imagination.

"Perving on your friend are you?" I tease. He chuckles.

"It was a nice rack."

"Oh god," I scoff lightly.

"What?" He frowns.

"That was such a boy thing to say."

"Well I hate to break it to you Penelope, but I am a boy," he teases right back. I roll my eyes in good heart.

"I know that, obviously. It was just like something you'd say with your like guy friends or something like yo did you see the tits on that girl?" I go for my best Aussie accent.

Luke erupts in the sweetest laugh that kind of starts off with a squeak that of course has me laughing along.

"That is not how I sound and I don't think I've ever used that sentence in my life."

"Sure you have, every boy has. And don't knock my accent it was gold!" I chuckle.

"Gold most have a different meaning in America than in Australia," Luke says through a soft laugh.

"Shut up," I retort.

"Let's hear your best American accent then."

"No," he refuses simply.

"Why not? Because you can't?" I egg him on.

"Because it's terrible and I can own up to that," he chuckles.

"Oh well look at you," I drawl out.

"Oh well look at you," Luke repeats in quite possibly the shittiest accent attempt I've ever heard.

I burst with laughter my hand coming up to cover my mouth.

"That was actually the worst accent I've ever heard. And why was my voice so high?"

"Shut up, I told you it sucked," his words coming out bashful.

I imagine the light shade of pink his fair skinned cheeks must be right now. I briefly wonder if he has any nervous/embarrassed habits.

I find myself slightly upset that I actually have no idea. And I don't know if I ever will.

"No, it was...it was good," I stifle a giggle.

"No," he drawls. "Don't pity me, that's even worst!"

"How's it worst? I promise I'm not-I'm not pitying you." I stumble on my words as I try keeping my laugh contained.

"I know you're lying to me," he mumbles miserably.

"Okay, maybe I am but mines pretty bad too," I cave.