Page 60 of Between Never and Forever

Shit. Ihadgoogled it before I texted him.

Me: Whatever.

Dex: Want to come do more research in the guest bedroom with me?

Me: Nope. You can call some of the women who enjoy those sex toys instead.

Dex: Why would I do that when the only woman I hate thinking about but always do is in my suite?

Me: Our suite.

Me: Which I should reimburse you for btw. I can pay rent.

Dex: Pay me by coming to my bed.

Me: How about you just take it out of my paycheck?

Dex: Let’s be real, Kee. We’re engaged. I’m not keeping tabs. You’re not paying me to stay here.

Me: Seems like you’re practicing acting like this engagement is real already.

Dex: You being mine for six months is real whether the engagement is or not.

Me: Only thing real about it is the contract.

Dex: And the fact that I’ve already made you come and taken your virginity. That Ben Wa ball something you’ll be using in the future?

Me: Not with you.

Dex: As long as you’re thinking about me when you use it alone, that’s all that matters. Wear it to a rehearsal. See how you feel.

Me: I’ll do what I want with it when I want.

Dex: You get through a rehearsal with that, babe, I’ll do whatever you want.

Me: Go to bed, Dex. You’re dreaming of impossible things.

Even though I’d pointed the finger at him, I dreamt about it all night long.

* * *

The next morning,I woke up groggy and still frustrated.

I glared at the dresser more than once. “I hate you,” I even mumbled as I passed it a few times. Then, I told myself not to think about it. I was actually going to actively avoid it if I could.

I had a million things to do. At the top of my list, I knew I needed to call my father. I normally tried to touch base with him much more frequently. I dialed his number and when he asked how I was, I told him, “I’m just fine, Dad. Figuring it all out here with the Hardy brothers.”

“Ah. They’ll take care of you. The Hardys are good boys.” I heard my mother grumble the same in the background. She may not have known where she was, but her long-term memory of them was set.

When I hung up the phone, I didn’t hear a sound, and I knew that meant Dex wasn’t there.

I didn’t expect him to be. Yet, he’d given me hell about dinner. So, I returned the favor as I walked around the dresser to get to my clothes and throw on jeans and a T-shirt.

Me: When I’m not at dinner, you’re mad…but you’re not at breakfast.

Dex: I only stay for breakfast if it’s you I’m eating.

So he was sticking with bold text messages the next day, it seemed. The butterflies in my stomach proved that I wasn’t so bold, though, after the alcohol I’d had last night. My fingers hesitated over the screen before I wrote: