Another pause. Longer.
Biker Boy: Savannah.
I laugh quietly.
Me: Wow. That tone.
Biker Boy: I don’t love not knowing who “the boys” are.
I glance down at Psycho, who is now staring at me like he senses he’s involved in something important.
Me: They’re small. Furry. Extremely judgmental. Enjoy belly rubs.
A beat.
Biker Boy: …
Biker Boy: You’re fucking with me.
Me: A little.
Biker Boy: Savannah.
I grin, rubbing Menace’s belly as he purrs louder and send him a picture of them sitting side by side.
Me: My cats. Psycho and Menace.
Another pause.
Biker Boy: Those are terrible names.
Me: They earned them.
Biker Boy: I’m gonna need to meet them eventually.
Heat curls low in my stomach at that.
I stare at the screen for a second, then type before I can overthink it.
Me: Hey… thanks for trusting me with the tattoo.
The dots appear almost immediately.
Biker Boy: Yeah.
Biker Boy: Thanks for not putting stupid shit on me.
I laugh out loud, the sound startling both cats.
Me: You’re welcome. I showed incredible restraint.
Biker Boy: Don’t get used to it.
Me: Too late.
Biker Boy: Night, Firecracker.
Biker Boy: I’ll text you tomorrow.
