I hit Send and then put my phone away. I’ve no idea what time it is in Vegas but I’m not going to sit here waiting for a response to a question that I only half-heartedly want an answer to. In fact, maybe I should just delete it…
I retrieve my phone and am back at the conversation in no time, but then I see the icon that tells me Loncey is replying, and as my breath hitches, I shut off the screen and shove the phone deep down in the very bottom of my bag.
Chapter Nine
Loncey
Ishould be showering and getting my ass to the gym, but I’m still in bed. Hell, I should already be at the gym considering it’s eight-thirty, but I’m still in bed. Still in bed messaging an Irish woman who is asking me about feet pics. Still in bed and smiling like a goddamn fool.
I type back with a winking face emoji. I wait for a few seconds to see if Maeve is online and typing a response but there’s nothing, so I finally get up. I plug my phone in to charge on the other side of the room, which I should have done last night, but instead I stayed up late messaging Maeve and then scrolling way too far back in her videos to find ones I’d not seen before. There were a lot more dancing videos than I expected, and I smiled my way through each one. She’s a good mover – natural rhythm and loose hips – and in one she even threw in a perfect pirouette that made my eyes widen and my heart skip a beat.
Really, I’ve got to get a grip on this. My interest in Maeve isn’t necessarily one of sexual attraction. Yes, okay, I admit, I thought about her in that scene with Miko and Harley, and yes, watching her videos last night made blood flood to my dick, but I didn’t put my hand on it, I didn’t touch myself. I didn’t even really want to. I just wanted to keep watching her. I wanted to watch her smile and laugh and hear her sing-song accent tell jokes and talk about this amazing lip gloss she’d just discovered.
Leaving my phone on the counter charging, I step in my small shower and wash my body, waking up a little more and feeling more determination enter my conscience. I’ve done this before. I’ve set boundaries about how I use my phone and create content online. I’ve made sure that I put my phone to bed and not the other way around. I’ve made sure that the first thing I do each day is meditate, set intentions and check in with how my body is feeling, not scrolling my notifications to see if @MaeBae has followed me back and definitely not lying in bed waiting for a reply to my message.
I do all these things in the shower. I set my intentions. I do some deep Ayurvedic breathing. And I do a body scan, noting that my hips and lower back are hurting, likely from the scene with Miko and Harley, a scene I’ve promised them both I will edit today. But first, I need to get my bag ready for the gym.
And yet, once dressed, I don’t reach for my bag or the clothes I need. I reach for my phone and before I know it, I’m reading the reply I was hoping for.
I type back before my better judgment can stop me.
Three dots appear telling me Maeve’s replying but a message doesn’t come through. The dots start and stop several times before a reply lands. And yes, I wait the whole damn time.
I smile to myself.
Her next reply is much quicker.
I laugh out loud at that, one loud and big “Ha!”
I think about it for two seconds before I do it. I snap a quick selfie of me, giving the camera my smoothest half-smile, half-pout. I send it.
I’m about to make a comment about her checking out my content again but stop myself.
I write instead.
I can practically feel the bite in that message, and yet it still has me smiling to myself.
