Uuummm… I mean, I’m not one to yuck someone else’s yum, but I’m not sure I could do any of the things on that piece of paper. Then again, I’ve also never thought about it as a real possibility.
Theo was so vanilla. Missionary and quick release. He ate me out once, maybe twice, and it felt alright, but most of the time I just felt like a melting ice cream cone he needed to clean up quickly.
There are probably a few things I’d refuse, but I guess I can’t hate it until I try it. That’s what my mom always told me about things she’d try to feed me as a child, though it’s super weird to compare the two.
My phone rings, and I jump as if someone could hear my crazy thoughts.
I race across the room and launch myself onto the bed, bouncing once as I click the green phone icon.
Skye.
“Hi.” I immediately pretend that I have not been hovering over my phone like a crow guarding shiny objects.
Her face fills the screen, dim lighting with that tired-but-satisfied look on her face that has me feeling guilty for occupying the time she needs for resting. Her hair is wet, like she just showered, and her black t-shirt hugs her upper body tightly.
“Hey. I know it’s a bit later than expected. Rissa got a bit too crazy with the champagne.”
I scrunch my face and laugh. “I was beginning to think you’d been kidnapped by the team and had forgotten the outside world.”
She laughs. “Plausible, but no.”
We stare at each other for a second, and I’m wondering how to segue into my curiosity.
Then it hits me. She likes games.
“Let’s play twenty-one questions.”
She blinks. “Alright.” And I hear her exhale as she settles on the couch in her hotel room. I really wish I were sitting there with her right now.
“Question one,” I start. “Was that piece of paper real?”
She nods. “Yes. It was a real piece of paper. Probably even cut from a real tree.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Was there a reason you gave me that piece of paper?”
“Yes. I wanted you to look at it.”
My head hangs.
This brat.
I’m going to have to word my questions carefully, or I’ll hit question twenty-one and still have no answers.
I rub my brow. She mimics.
I tuck my tongue into my cheek. She grins.
“Are the scenarios on this paper things you’re interested in doing behind closed doors?”
This time her smile falls, like she knows I’ve caught onto her. But she doesn’t seem uncomfortable or timid about it. More so, unsure of how her answer will affect what happens between us.
“Yes.”
I nod slowly, not breaking my eye contact with the camera as my mind races deep into this rabbit hole.
“Are there things on this paper that you would consider a hard boundary for yourself?”
Her eyebrow raises, and I can tell she’s surprised by my choice of words. Hard boundaries are part of the contract. Specifically listing things you’re not willing to negotiate on.
