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Purple Puppy:Sorry I never called you. I really wanted to, but my friend stayed over.

And he tacks on the sad begging eyes.

Orchid Mantis:Is this the smart best friend?

Purple Puppy:Mhmm

Purple Puppy:We… kinda sorta had sex…

Orchid Mantis:How does one kinda sorta have sex?

Purple Puppy:Very carefully.

And that gets a chuckle out of me. Smartass.

Purple Puppy:It wasn’t exactly planned, and it’s never happened before.

Purple Puppy:I dunno where we stand.

My brow raises at his word choice: we. As in us? Not likely, no. More like him and his friend. Hmm. Not sure I like that any better.

Purple Puppy:I don’t think this is going anywhere, but telling you still felt the most responsible and I’m attempting responsibility these days.

Mother fucker. He’s really going there with me. Well, fuck. For the best, I guess.

Purple Puppy:Are you mad?

Orchid Mantis:Not particularly.

Purple Puppy:And what if I said thinking about you was what got me all riled up in the first place?

I smile to myself. Still on the hook. Too bad I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. Uncertainty is something I don’t experience often. I keep waiting for him to make his moves and decide for me. Changing courses still may be for the best, but I’m not sure if I can.

Orchid Mantis:In that case, not at all.

Purple Puppy:I think my cock didn’t like a change in routine and missed you.

He ends his sentence with a frowning emoji.

Orchid Mantis:Just how long have you been jerking off when we talk?

Purple Puppy:Hey, I’m a gentleman.

Purple Puppy:I waited until after we hung up.

Purple Puppy:Except for last time, but I would’ve stopped if you didn’t get into it. Which you did.

He’s got me there. Dammit.

Orchid Mantis:Call me tonight.

Purple Puppy:Oh, yeah? Not in the doghouse?

Orchid Mantis:Call me tonight and find out.

And with that, I power my phone off. It’s good for him to suffer a little. It’ll keep him on his toes.

It works. I go about my day as usual, doing all the mundane responsibilities all people must endure—work, laundry, dishes, paying bills—but nothing particularly important or thrilling. I keep busy and don’t miss my phone. When I’m in bed thatevening and powering my phone back on, it rings almost instantly. Yet again, I find myself torn between being pleased to see he’s retained such interest and dreading what’s coming. I still haven’t made up my mind, and that’s not like me at all.