I know what he’s asking, but I need to keep us away from that topic. Still, it’s fun to flirt with Foster over text like this.
All right then. Question #2 – Did you enjoy yourself last night?
What kind of question is that? Of course I did. Did you?
Is that your question?
No… well… I guess so.
Immensely. So much so that I can’t stop thinking about it.
My stomach feels like a dryer tumbling round and round. He’s been thinking about last night all day, just like I have.
And what do you suggest we do about that?
Hey now, it’s my chance to ask a question. Didn’t anyone teach you to take turns?
I’ve never been a good sharer.
Something we have in common.
Don’t you have a game to play?
I’m a closer, so I’ve got a lot of time.
Then by all means, ask me your question.
Would you be willing to give me some lessons?
I read his question, then read it again. It makes total sense now why he’s choosing to do this over text instead of in person.
Lessons on what exactly?
Sex lessons.
I cough, and a small bit of saliva gets caught in my throat, and I cough harder, causing me to get up for some water.
Well your silence doesn’t bode well for me.
I lean over the kitchen counter and hammer out another text.
You know how to use your tongue, you just need to use it more often.
That’s just it. Right now, I’m no better than those shitheads you’ve dated in the past. I want to change, and since we both agreed to not sleep with anyone else until after the baby comes, I figure why not…
Complicate our situation even more?
Haha… we just need some rules.
This is a very bad idea.
So was you moving in with me, but—and this is me putting myself out there—I like coming home to you.
My breath catches. My heart soars, but my mind grabs it, tugging it back down. I’m breathing heavily as I stare at the phone screen and read it over and over. I like coming home to you.
Just going to leave me out here all by myself, all vulnerable? I see how it is.
My thumbs hover on the phone, but I have no idea what to type.
