I’d never felt Theo’s thumbs.
Or tasted them.
Or had him tease my head as it leaked gooey goodness—
Theo: Unless you count a hundred texts used for high school research papers, nope. I need a comfy chair, a glass of dry red wine, and a first edition of anything that doesn’t involve sixteen-year-olds, STAT. Not that my little gremlin would give me a moment’s peace, but a boy can dream, right?
And just like that, my heart was full. It wasn’t simply that Theo texted back, though that was essential to letting me continue my workday. It was also how he responded. It felt as though he was continuing the most natural conversation in the world, one we’d started years earlier and only now made sense.
It was also how he texted in complete sentences, whole paragraphs even. Charles Dickens would’ve been proud. In a day when most of those he taught barely spoke in complete words, it was funny and sweet that his little thumb worked so hard . . . just for me.
And . . . back to his thumbs.
God, I wanted to feel—
Theo: You still working? Tear any shirts today?
I actually laughed out loud at that . . . and at how my uniform pants tented at the thought of Theo’s thumbs wiggling in just the right way. Was I sick? Did I need therapy? Was there even a therapy for whatever was wrong with me . . . and my dick that clearly had a mind of its own?
I let my head fall back on the headrest and grinned, enjoying how silly and giddy just hearing from Theo made me feel.
Then I realized I’d made him wait for a response.
That would’ve driven me insane, waiting for the dots to wiggle.
I let my own digits fly.
Me: I haven’t seen Cuddles yet. She’s coming up, though. Wish me luck.
Theo: You’re a brave man.
Me: Did I tell you Mrs. Chen is having surgery?
Theo: No, but she did. You two getting close? Should I be worried?
I laughed and fumbled my phone. It slid under the seat so far I had to climb out of my truck and lean over to fish it out.
Me: Nothing to worry about there. I’m kind of into this guy.
Theo: Oh? Really? He must be pretty special to catch your eye.
Me: He’s kind of a nerd, but in the best way ever. Maybe I’ll introduce you sometime.
Theo: Ha. Thanks . . . I think.
Me: So, about Mrs. Chen. She asked me to look after Cuddles while she’s down for the count.
Theo: Really? Wow. This gets better by the minute. Mind if Debbie and I watch? Hell, I want to film it for posterity. They could make dog training videos about the vicious breed that is the Golden Retriever. They’re nasty, evil little buggers with all their fur and slobber and licky kisses.
Me: I think I hate you.
Theo: Hate me over dinner.
I blinked at the screen, caught between chuckling at his humor, grinning at the stupid cuteness of our conversation, and amazed he wanted to see me again, though Ihadpulled off a pretty amazing date with the downtown bookstore thing.
Me: Name the time and place, and I’m there.
Theo: My place. Friday night. Bring a toothbrush.
