“Yeah, will do. Text me when you’re going there.” He gave his reflection one last check and headed off, picking up what looked like an overnight bag.
I shook my head and looked back at my laptop, focusing on the piece of code I’d been agonising over for the last couple of days.
A buzz from my phone broke my concentration.
Otter: How’s my favourite geek? I’m in Manchester next weekend. You about?
Fuck. We had an away game, but only in Leicester, so we wouldn’t be staying over after.
Me: I’ll be back late Saturday night. Would that work?
Otter: Totally. I’ll book a hotel and let you know the details. Be good to catch up. Exchange a few orgasms.
I’d had several orgasms since I’d last seen her, mainly achieved through remembering things we’d done.
And the things I wanted to do.
Me: So you haven’t had an orgasm since London?
Otter: That isn’t what I said. But I haven’t had any with anyone else.
Me: You gave them yourself then?
Otter: My trusty, mechanical friend helped.
I wasn’t letting her get away with that.
Me: What mental stimulation did you think about?
The dots on the screen flickered, then stopped, and I wondered if I’d pushed it too hard, pretty sure I hadn’t.
More dots started again after a minute of me staring at the screen,
Otter: You. Specifically your cock. I miss it.
I laughed, the doorbell interrupting any response I could conjure up, or one that would keep this conversation going. I wanted to tell Nate to give me an hour, but that wasn’t going to happen. No matter how hard my cock was getting at the thought of where this text conversation with Otter was going, I wasn’t binning off Nate.
Me: Hold that thought, and miss it for a bit longer. My mate’s just turned up.
Otter: Video call me later. When he’s gone :)
Me: 8====D
I left it at that.
Nate came equipped with food, vodka and sugar free cola. The food was of the healthy variety, pre-prepped stuff that would almost match our macros. The vodka told me where his head was at.
In the last year and a bit, his wife had died of cancer, and her mother – his mother-in-law – had passed away three weeks ago after a rare allergic reaction. Nate had relied on her massively since Chan had died; she’d been the main carer for his two girls, and the last link they had with their mother.
He was holding it together solidly. Although the vodka told me he needed some down time.
“I know you’re going to say no, because I’ve never known you watch anything, apart from that computer screen, but the last episode ofA Fire of Roses and Thornswas on last night and I haven’t watched it yet. Do you mind if…” He sat his goalkeeper sized backside on the couch.
“A what of what?” I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.
Nate shook his head, slowly. “You really don’t live in this fucking world, do you?”
I gave it some thought. “Not the same world where binge-watching shit TV is the main part of your day.”
