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Purple Puppy:In my house!

Orchid Mantis:Okay, okay. You win.

And a smiley.

Orchid Mantis:Doesn’t feel like losing when you hustle like that just to talk to me, though.

Oh. My heart. Currently pumping, not only from rushing into my house. Maybe I should be embarrassed to be called out like that, but… I like that he noticed. And the thought of him smiling at his screen, secretly pleased to have someone who cares so much… makes my cock twitch. Jess is right. I don’t know what this guy looks like, or even his name. And yet, if he were to answer my call all out of breath from rushing to get to his phone and then say how happy he is to hear from me… my hand would go straight down my pants. How has this guy gotten such a hold on me already?

Chapter five

Cas

So, an eager PP doesn’t need much time. I set my timer and about seven minutes is all it took for him to get from the parking lot of his job to outside his house, and another minute at most before he was inside. That helps me significantly. He lives and works close to me. Which means even if I assume his drive bumps him outside my radius, there are only so many farms within ten to fifteen miles of me. The number shrinks even more once I eliminate the ones that don’t match what he’s told me. I’m not looking for a chicken farm or dairy farm, but something with goats and a store. May not sound distinct, but that could be enough to distinguish it from others in such a small area.

My phone dings and I close the current screen with the maps app. Someone’s up late.

Purple Puppy:I know I already said I’m going to bed, but I’m in bed and I can’t sleep.

Orchid Mantis:I’m in bed, too. But I’m not telling you the color of my underwear.

Purple Puppy:Oh no. Noooo. I didn’t mean it like that.

Sure, you didn’t.

Purple Puppy:I’m sorry. You probably have work in the morning.

Orchid Mantis:It’s okay. You can text me until one of us passes out.

Purple Puppy:Yeah?

Purple Puppy:Could I maybe… call you?

Orchid Mantis:Are you going to wish me goodnight?

Purple Puppy:Yes.

And a smile emoji. How could anyone resist?

Orchid Mantis:Okay.

I include another variation of the smile emoji. An article I once read said each smiley is supposed to mean something different. I’m not sure how we as a society managed to complicate this, but here we are. Emoji subtext is a thing I need to worry about now.

My phone rings less than ten seconds later, and I accept the audio call through the app, but I don’t say anything. Not yet.

“Hi.”

And I was right. He doesn’t have that youthful lilt, but he still sounds young—only more like my age and not a teenager.

“Hey,” I say back.

“I did… not put enough thought into this.” He laughs, very obviously from nerves.

“How so?”

“I… want to say goodnight to you, but I technically don’t know your name.”

I roll over in bed, and I make sure he can hear me moving while he waits for my response. “What do you normally call me?”