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Peyton: What happened?
I scoot closer to the headboard, toss the second pillow on the one under my head, and inch upright.
Micah: Asked if either of us is dating. They’re worried we’ll miss out.
Peyton: What’d you say?
Her response makes me smile. I may read into it more than intended, but it seems she wants to know if I told my parents I was dating someone.
Micah: That when either of us wants them to meet someone, they will. It got a little heated. Which isn’t normal.
Peyton: Sorry you had a crazy night.
Micah: Thanks. Better now.
Peyton: Is that so?
I read the last text with her voice in my head, imagining her hands on her hips and brow perked up. Fuck. How I miss this side of her. The snark and banter and sass. The side that has me crawling like a bumbling fool.
Micah: Damn straight.
Peyton: And why is that?
Micah: Hmm ?? Maybe because a certain someone is awake.
Peyton: Do you have a pet?
God, she makes me laugh. Lifts away the heavy and provides incomparable comfort.
Micah: No. Do you?
Peyton: No, but I want a cat.
Micah: Good to know.
Peyton: Are you allergic?
Micah: No. But it’s always good to know the competition.
For the next hour, we text back and forth. Talk about randomness. Some with substance, but not much. By the time we say good night, a peculiar bouncy sensation ping-pongs beneath my rib cage. I press the heel of my palm to my sternum, take a deep breath, hold it until my lungs burn and relish in the bliss Peyton delivers.
I have no clue what this is between us. But I plan to do whatever it takes to keep it. To keep her. Who knows… maybe in the not-too-distant future, I will have dinner with my parents and tell them about Peyton. Introduce her to them. One day…
