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Chapter fifteen

Frustration

R ai texted Poppy as soon as he returned to his motel room.

My sweet Poppy. I greeted your mother, and she presented me with a great bounty of fresh bread.

She was quite kind. I have not yet eaten it, as I am loath to remove the delectable flavor of your ecstasy from my lips, but I am sure it is most delicious.

I will make my pilgrimage to the drugstore this day, that when again we meet we may share in all the pleasures of the flesh without reservation.

I yearn for you. With deepest regards, I remain yours. Rai.

His phone chimed almost immediately, and he eagerly read the reply.

You really have a way with words. I suck at sexting but damn I wish you were here.

There were a few symbols following the words; he frowned at them.

The first was a heart on fire—that made sense, as he, too, felt burning adoration—but the next one…

Was that a face? A red face, deeply distressed, with exaggerated drops of water on it.

What could that mean? Poppy’s face was charming when it turned red, but she did not stick her tongue out in such a way.

Were the droplets meant to be raindrops?

And then there was a wi cked purple face with horns.

That one was concerning—while he did not have horns in his true form, was it possible Poppy had learned of his fae nature? He swiftly texted back.

I do not understand the symbols. Are you distressed by the rain? Or a purple demon? I shall return immediately. Yours, Rai.

But a message arrived the second he tapped send.

That is not me saying to come over, Mr. Literal.

Then another reply a few seconds later, before he’d had time to think of another message.

LOL I knew you were gonna offer to come over. Believe me I want you to come rescue me but I gotta do this stuff. The symbols are just me sitting here sweating thinking naughty things about you. Sorry I shouldn’t be using emoji when you’ve only had a phone for two days. Here, this one’s a kiss.

There was another face. It did not look like kissing, but then the other “emoji” had been equally unlike what she’d said they meant. It was like hieroglyphics.

What naughty things? he replied, setting emoji aside for the moment. He had not thought she was interested in mischief and mayhem, but it would be glorious to rampage with her by his side.

All the naughty things. I’ll show you tomorrow.

I shall count the moments until I may drink from your fountain again.

There was a long wait before his phone chimed again.

Don’t forget the condoms.

I swear to you I shall obtain them.

And his phone went silent. He ended up pacing the floor, glaring at the silent phone, then finally went on Google to see if there were any rules for texting, so that he could be certain not to offend Poppy.

The commandments he found left him in an even greater state of dismay.

“Thou shalt not be impatient.” How unfair!

And how was he to know if Poppy had “ghosted” him, or what hours might be considered “unsociable” when he was accustomed to social congress late into the night?

Finally, he broke, sending her a desperate text right before he settled in to sleep.

Poppy, I have learned the rule that texts should be concise. I have acquired many condoms. I shall call you at 5:00, that we might make love freely until the rains end.

He slept then, curled in his full tub, awakening to a message notification.

I’m sorry I put my phone in the other room so I didn’t get distracted from work. You are very distracting! But in a good way. I have more work to do in the morning but pls call when you get off. I can’t wait!!!

A second message had been sent just after. You don’t have to be concise. That’s not an actual rule. I like the way you text.

Sadly, she did not respond immediately to his fervent reply, which filled the entire screen of his phone.

Texting was incredibly frustrating. What was the good of describing the ways in which he desired to explore Poppy’s womanhood if she was not there to turn pink and gasp and offer her womanhood for his exploration?

It was better than no contact at all, but not by much.

When his phone remained silent, he sighed and went to practice the use of the condom.

He could not expect Poppy to teach him everything.

When he’d gone to the store, he had been frustrated and mystified by the copious array of condom varieties on the shelves, and the shop clerk he had asked to explain the terminology had been remarkably unhelpful.

In the end, Rai had simply tossed one of each box into his wheeled basket and then glared down his nose at the clerk manning the till.

“Well, somebody’s having a good night,” the clerk had said.

“Indeed,” Rai had replied imperiously, even though his night would be spent alone.

Now, he dumped out his purchases on the bed and began sorting through the boxes in growing irritation.

He understood the general terminology for sizing from his clothes shopping trip with Ofelia, but how was he to determine whether his penis was S, M, L, or XL?

He did not have a measuring tape, as the websites suggested, and had never found a reason to think about his cock’s length or girth.

It did what it was supposed to do, and he had never heard any complaints that it was excessively small or large, even when his lovers had found other things to complain about.

Finally, he selected a box at random and opened it, pulling out one of the small foil packets and turning it over and over in his hands.

He finally figured out how to open it and poked at the odd membrane inside.

It wasn’t like a super ball at all! How curious.

And there was no way of knowing from the look of it how it would be worn, nor how it would fit him.

He sighed and called up one of the instructional websites on his phone.

He would just have to try them all.

Poppy’s phone started to chime at exactly five o’clock Monday evening. It was the default ringtone for her phone, but there was only one person it could be. She sighed, removed her work headphones, and answered.

“Hello, Rai.” God, she sounded tired even to herself.

“Poppy! I have excellent news.”

A wave of longing washed over her. He sounded so happy. She tried to inject cheer into her reply. “That’s great! I can’t wait to hear it.”

There was a slight pause. “Are you well?” he asked in a more subdued voice.

This is why you never got the lead in the school play. “I’m a little tired.” She was so much better at fake cheer over texts. Just add exclamation points and an emoji or two. “What’s your news?”

“It is not important,” he said. “Have you not rested? I shall Google ways to cure fatigue.”

“I slept plenty,” she lied. “I just… I’m not done with work yet.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed, glancing at the half-finished transcript still on her screen.

She’d already extended the deadline once, when she’d gone to visit her mom at lunch and had to spend extra time reassuring her that she had not caught her death of cold.

“How was your day? You close the sale? I hear coffee’s for closers only. ”

“You wish coffee? I will gladly bring you coffee.”

She managed a laugh. “You’re sweet, but no thanks. If you come over… Have you ever seen the movie 9 to 5 ?”

“I have not seen it. Do you recommend it?”

Poppy crushed the surge of affection at how cute that sounded in Rai’s way of speaking—like he was reading it right out of an etiquette book.

“Definitely. It’s old, but… But anyhow, there’s this one fantasy scene where the peasant wage slaves are gloriously rescued from the shackles of their work, and…

and it would be like that, except I need to keep my shackles on until I finish this job. ”

“You do not want me to rescue you? ”

Poppy curled a bit around her phone. “No, I want it. I want it a lot. I just… Tonight’s not going to be good for me.”

He was quiet for a long time. His breathing was audible through the phone, and something about the fact that Rai hadn’t learned the twenty-first-century skill of not breathing loudly into a cell phone made Poppy want to cry.

Not to mention pout and roll on the floor and throw a tantrum that she wasn’t going to get what she’d wanted tonight.

“I wish to see you,” he said at last, sounding more confused than anything else.

“I want to see you, too. But it’s going to take me the rest of the night to finish this, and…and the mortgage is due next week. I need this work. And if I finish this job early, I need to see if there’s anything else I can do. It’s still not enough.”

“How can it not be enough?” Rai asked. “I know I am… I have been called a spoiled brat, so perhaps I cannot understand, but you have been working hard all day. Why must it continue into the night for you to have enough?”

Poppy bit back her first acidic response.

Rai didn’t deserve to be buried under all the baggage of her past, the way Brendan’s retribution for the crime of helping her mother had been not just personal but professional.

“Because that’s the price I pay for a job that I can do from home and take a break from whenever my mom needs me. ”

“But you cannot…take a break for yourself?”

“I can,” she said evenly. “And I did this weekend. But there’s a limit to how much work time I can lose before we lose the house.”

There was another long pause. “Your artwork. Perhaps if your drawings were to be purchased—”

“Well, that would be great, but it’s not gonna happen. And even if it did, it wouldn’t be enough for the mortgage.” She could feel her voice sharpening after all. “Rai, I’m so glad you called. And I wish I could say, hey, forget my work, come over tonight. But I can’t.”

“I am sorry. I have offended you.”

“No. No, I’m not mad or offended or… You’re the one who should be mad. I promised you tonight.”

“I am not angry.”