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As he gathered his bag and stood, I sniffed. I’d eaten lunch with him enough to know he didn’t have class for another half hour. But if he wanted to keep dodging me…
Before you go, just one thing. I know I tease you A LOT about your “urges,” but I am glad you told me about them so I understand. Thank you for that.
He was almost to the entrance of the main building when he paused and dug his phone out of his pocket. I watched his back and the way his dark head bent as he read what I’d written. When he was finished, he looked back at me.
I returned the stare, waiting. But he rotated away and entered the college. A disappointed hiss of air leaked from my lungs. God, I was so pathetic, crushing on a freaking gigolo and then flirting with him mercilessly.
I mean, how much more forbidden could a guy get? I could tell myself a million times over that I just wanted to be his friend, but that would be a lie…a million times over.
Thirty seconds later, my phone dinged, and it was scary how happy that made me.
Are we getting serious now?
I sighed and idly fiddled with my nose ring, because I still hadn’t gotten used to it being there, and typed back: Apparently.
I really needed to get over this guy and move on. But then he wrote: In that case, thanks for staying my friend even though I want to jump your bones.
Amusement and tenderness fizzled inside me. I think a part of my personality was beginning to rub off on him. He could be sweet, charming, flirty, and kind of crude all in the same breath.
A man after my own heart.
The feeling is mutual, you know, I felt compelled to tell him. Girls get urges too.
He'd be out of a job of they didn't.
A second later, my phone buzzed. You probably shouldn't have told me that. Now I'm going to have to stay away longer.
With a frown, I responded: Hey I can control MY urges, thank you very much.
With you, I'm not so sure I can control mine. You're getting hard to resist.
I couldn’t help it; I had to tease: Don't say hard. You just sent my mind straight to dirty girl land.
Now who's the perv?
I'll accept that award. Want to hear my thank-you speech?
No time. I really do need to go. Flirt with you later.
Buzzkill.
He honestly must’ve had somewhere to be, because he never did reply. Our conversation left me in a strange mix of moods for the rest of the day. Whenever I’d remember something he had typed, I’d grin and feel lighthearted. A few times, I even pulled out my phone to reread some of his messages. I just want to kiss those lips and hoard that sound all to myself was my all-time favorite.
I wanted to hoard him all to myself too. It wasn’t fair that a bunch of strangers who knew nothing about him got to be with him in ways I never would. And...then I was reminded all over again why we could only flirt through texts, and my emotions would plummet. I wanted him to plop down on the bench across from me at our lunch table and steal some of my food.
I wanted Mason back.
~$~
On Thursday afternoon, I was doing some homework outside in the courtyard while I waited for my time to clock in at the library. Dr. Janison, who’d yet to flunk me, had assigned my class Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales…in Middle English.
Yeah, I know. Middle English.
I was trying to decipher the Wife of Bath’s Tale as I sat in the midday sunlight, soaking up some warm Florida rays, when I came to the line “By verray force, he rafte hire maydenhed.”
Huh? Okay, pretty much every line of the epic poem left me with a great big huh? And this one was no different. Pulling up my handy dandy translation book I’d bought last week, I found the corresponding line.
When I realized it said something along the lines of “he took her maidenhead by force,” I jerked back in surprise. What the heck was Dr. Janison making us read? A heroic knight raping a virgin was not my idea of classic literature.
