Page 27 of The Tiger in the Sack

I have some questions.

Questions I could do.

Hit me with them.

Fox paced like he was waiting for news from the doctor and occasionally peeked his head over my shoulder to read the text exchange.

Good. Vetting protocol commencing.

I’m ready.

Years riding?

Nine.

Crashes?

None.

Speeding tickets?

Also none.

Are you lying? Just a little bit?

Nope. I’m a safety boy.

I didn’t need anyone I knew finding out about my motorcycle since everyone would be Judgy McJudgersons about it. An accident or a ticket would be fodder for the rumor mill. So I really was careful. Not to mention it would make my insurance cost more than my signing bonus.

Are you a felon?

No.

I wanted to laugh, but she was probably pretty serious about these questions, so no laughing emojis for me.

Married, divorced, separated, engaged, situationship?

No to all of the above. Cheating and cheaters are not my jam.

Children?

No. But I come from a big family and I’d probably like a few. Some day.

Roommates?

One. He’s an idiot. He’s looking over my shoulder at this whole convo right now.

Fox made a face like he was offended on principle.

Hi roommate.

Fox practically giggled with delight and literally waved at the phone.

He says hi back. Don’t be nice to him. He’ll glob onto you and probably move in.

He sounds great.

He’s not. He’s a menace.