Lincoln: What are you doing today?
Does he really expect me to come in today for work? At this point he’s trying to find an excuse. My fingers start moving over the screen to type back.
Me: Why? I can’t come in today
He’s typing. The ocean is so serene even though it’s cold, but I feel warm in my jacket.
Lincoln: No reason. Just wanted to thank you for making dinner before and taking care of Morris
Me: r u firing me?
Lincoln leaves me an emoji with one eyebrow raised.
Lincoln: y would you think I’m firing you. did you do something naughty?
For fuck’s sake.
All of a sudden my clitoris starts throbbing as if it’s saying yes baby get that dick.
It’s so damn annoying. Because I’m reading what he said in his voice, and I can tell what his face looks like without even having to see it.
I’m not even going to grace him with a reply.
My feet are still stretched out in front of me, and I pull up my hoodie of my pastel pink bubble jacket and lie back flat on the ground, my hands on my belly as I look up at the sky.
One of the seagulls lands on the tip of my shoe and then flaps off.
It’s nice having them all around me. That way I don’t feel so alone.
“Skkeeuh-skeeuh-skee-skee” Handsome, the biggest seagull, shrills.
“Would you stop? Damn. Is all you care about food?” I smile, still lying back, looking over to my left at the seagull staring at me. “Like… don’t you like me for my personality?”
The seagull responds by cocking its head at me and then moving closer so it can bury its beak in my jacket pocket looking for food.
I chuckle and push the chest of the bird away. It resists, walking back toward the pocket. When the others try to come close to me to follow suit, Handsome unfolds his wings in a bright, intimidating display, his beak wide open, his tongue curled ashe flaps in their direction, legs still on the ground, letting them know not to come close.
“Y’all better be careful. Handsome will fuck you up,” I laugh.
Another ping.
Sighing in complete frustration, I take out my phone again, still lying back and holding it up so I can see.
Lincoln: I wanted to ask you something.
There goes my heartbeat again. I don’t need cardio. Every interaction I have with this man I’m supposed to hate makes my heart start bolting down the freeway of whatever the hell this feeling is that I need to get rid of.
I read the message but send nothing back.
Lincoln: can I call?
“Ugh. Guess I’m not getting any peace on this Sunday afternoon because damn. Can’t a girl just lie down with some fucking sky rats and check out?”
One of the seagulls makes its last squeaking noise. I sit up, legs still outstretched in front of me. As I’m about to reply, it’s like Lincoln can’t wait, and my phone starts ringing in my hand.
I hold the phone up and say nothing.
“Gabby?” comes his voice on the other line.
