Chewing my lip, I contemplate it. Yes. Obviously, I should text him just to say thank you for the ibuprofen. And for cleaning up. And for feeding Sebastian.
Okay, yes.
I grab my phone from my nightstand and send a quick, very casual message.
Maisie: Thanks for the medicine… and the
I’ve already hit Send when I realize how stupid that actually probably sounded.
Thanks for the dick?
That’sthe message that I thought would be a great way to say thank you for being attentive when I know it’s the exact opposite of who he is.
This callous, seemingly indifferent man took care of me. It’s a complete conundrum to his personality.
And instead, I tell him…
Thanks for the dick.
Great.Lovely. Fantastic.
In my defense, I don’t want to come off as this clingy, naive girl. So, I need to keep things light and breezy.
No, yeah, that still doesn’t make any sense.
I groan out loud, “My God, Maisie. You’ve been dick-matized.”
Dots dance on the screen inside the thread, and my heart dips, waiting for his response.
When it finally comes through, I almost drop my phone when a giggle bursts out of me.
Coach: You’re welcome for taking care of your pussy.
Coach: Both of them.
Maisie: Did you… just make a… joke?
Coach: I wasn’t joking.
Maisie: Hm. I might need you to take care of it again, asap.
Coach: Got a game tonight, but I can come over tomorrow if you’re free.
Maisie: I’m so freaking free.
I erase it before I can send yet another stupid message.
Maisie: I get out of class at 4:30. Dinner at my place again?
Coach:
Good God, this man texts like a grandpa.
Maisie: Good luck tonight, Coach
Coach: Thx.
Coach: Take more meds later.
