“He should be,” I said. “He knows what I do for a job. Nothing has changed overnight there.”
She nodded, seemingly appeased, then started on a new subject. “So, you’re cooking him dinner on Tuesday night?”
And so our conversation went on until Gabe had had enough—or maybe he took pity on me—and dragged her home. I went upstairs, remade my bed, and found myself staring at my phone.
Should I text him? Is that what boyfriends do? Is that crossing the taking-it-slow boundaries?
So, ignoring my phone, I ate some dinner instead and then I got to thinking… why hadn’t he texted me?
I put my phone on the kitchen counter and stared at it like it had knocked my world off kilter.
Which it kind of had. Well, not my phone exactly, but since when did I worry about shit like this? What had it been? A fucking day?
I snatched up my phone and went to Messages and found his name.
Is me texting you right now taking it slow? Because I’m starting to overthink this shit and don’t want to get it wrong but if I want to text you, I can, right?
I hit send, before I could overthink that, and threw my phone back on the counter. I was grabbing a drink from the fridge when my phone buzzed, and I almost busted a valve in my heart trying to see if it was him that replied.
It was.
Texting me is fine. More than fine, actually. And jsyk, that photo I posted on Facebook has garnered a lot of comments.
I smiled like a school kid with a crush, then of course looked around my flat to see if anyone saw how ridiculous I was being, then shook my head at myself because I lived alone. Of course no one saw me. I took my phone and bottle of water to the couch and collapsed onto it, still smiling at the small screen in my hand.
I quickly replied. Garnered? Did you really just use the word garnered?
His reply was immediate. Shut up.
I laughed out loud. So, the comments that have been garnered, are they favourable?
I was expecting a quick response, but instead the phone rang in my hand. It was Andrew. “Are you giving me crap?”
I laughed again. “Absolutely. In Australia, we would call that ‘taking the piss.’ Did you really tell me to shut up?”
“Yes I did.” He breathed in deep. “I’m glad you texted me.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I admitted. “Then I struggled with what the criteria for taking things slow was and wondered if texting you after we’d spent the last two days together was crossing some line in the handbook of boyfriend etiquette, and then I realised how idiotic I was being and thought fuck it. Hence the text.”
“Hence. And you—How did you put it?—‘took the piss’ out of me for saying garnered.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed into the phone, and the sound sent a rush of warmth through my chest.
“Lola gave me an inquisition the Spanish would be proud of,” I told him.
He chuckled again. “Yes, Sarah called me not too long ago. And my mother. Apparently showing the world via social media that I was being cosy with a new beau—those were her words, not mine—but I hadn’t told her yet, has earned me a lunch date where said Spanish Inquisition will no doubt take place.”
Now it was me who laughed. “Sounds like fun.”
“Yes, fun like a Black Knight flesh wound.”
“Did you just quote Monty Python?”
“Did you just get my Monty Python reference?”
I snorted. “The Holy Grail is one of my favourites.”
I swear I could hear him smiling. “Mine too.”
Then his doorbell sounded in the background. “Expecting someone?” I asked.
“Yep. Dinner. I told you I don’t cook.”
“So, what’s on tonight’s menu?”
“Mexican. Bean salad with a side of burrito.”
God, he made me laugh. “Okay, I’ll let you go. Have fun. I’ll text you tomorrow night.”
“Okay. Bye.”
After I disconnected the call, I smiled at my phone like a simpleton until I went to bed. Though I kinda worried about not telling him about my appointment with a new client tomorrow. It’s not something I ever had to worry about before, but now that Lola mentioned it, I couldn’t help but wonder what Andrew would think. I took my phone off the bedside table and considered shooting him a quick text, reminding him I was starting a new job tomorrow.
And then I chickened out, because what if he did have an issue with it? And then I told myself to man the fuck up and tell him. Just as I was about to do it, my phone buzzed in my hand with a message.
It was Andrew.
Jsyk, any doubts of my ability to come four times in one day were unfounded.
I groaned at the mental images of him jerking himself off in bed. Or in the shower. Or onto my stomach, or in my mouth… Now my balls were aching with need.
That is so not fair.
His response took a little while. You’re welcome.
Needless to say, that was a contest I just couldn’t let him win.