“I’m having a bath,” Rupert shouts from his bedroom.
We booked a two-bedroom suite at a fancy hotel in the center of Boston, and when I say we, I mean Rupert. He booked it using my credit card. And when I say my credit card, I mean my father’s.
And we plan on putting a substantial amount of room service on it.
“They have bath salts in here!” he shouts with glee. “I hope they effervesce near my undercarriage. I could use a little tingling in my life.” Then he shuts his door, and I pick up my phone, wondering for a moment why I continue to hang out with him.
I mean, I know the answer to that, but still…he’s really fucking weird.
Despite that, I love him like a brother, and I know how much he was looking forward to this small getaway when I came up with the idea. He was practically jumping up and down, cheering for having one-on-one time with me. As if we don’t have enough of that already, but according to him, we don’t.
Pulling up my text thread with Renley, I stack my feet on the coffee table and get comfortable. For a moment, I consider doing a video call, but squash that idea almost immediately. She wouldn’t answer.
Instead I decide to send her a text.
Theo:I fell asleep on my car ride and woke up making out with Rupert’s forearm thinking it was you. In my dream, you had a mustache. I didn’t mind, but considering what I was making out with, we can blame Rupert’s arm hair for that. Also, this isn’t true, but I needed a good opener. Did it catch your attention?
After I press send, I wait for a reply, worried she won’t give me one. If she follows the rules, then she’ll reply. Then again, I didn’t give her a chance to counter-propose the rules. Either way, if she enjoyed that kiss, she should reply.
But with every second that ticks by and she doesn’t respond, my concern grows.
What if the kiss was too much?
What if my nonresponse scared her away?
What if she believes all of this is absolutely insane and she takes my time away from town to throw in the towel and put distance between us?
It was a risky move leaving, but Rupert was getting restless—hell, he was helping Kitty with her hobby horse technique—and I needed a moment to breathe. But now that I’ve had that second, I want nothing more than to spend the night talking to her.
More time ticks by.
I hear Rupert splashing around and giggling in the bathroom—I’m not even going to ask.
And just as I’m about to give up and go to the bar in the lobby to drown my worries away, my phone dings with a text.
Heart in my throat, I quickly pull up the text thread and see that it’s from her.
Thank Jesus.
Renley:I don’t even know how to respond to something like that.
Smiling, I sink into the couch and get ready for the text-a-thon I was hoping for.
Theo:I don’t blame you. It’s the first thing that came to mind and I’m trying not to dissect that.
Luckily, she starts texting back immediately.
Renley:I’m sure a therapist would have a field day with the relationship you share with Rupert.
Theo:Hey now, don’t shame the bromance.
Renley:You two are one shared milkshake away from being an old married couple.
Theo:Fun fact, we once shared a strawberry milkshake. It was in one of those old-timey glasses. He started sucking hard, so then I started sucking hard, and by the end of the glass, we were both spent.
Renley:Can you reread what you just wrote, please?
Theo:I know what I said.
