Can’t Text This

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Can’t Text This Page 15

by Hunter, Teagan


  Python: No, but you should. It’s hot.

  Me: You’re so annoying.

  Python: Admit it, it’s one of your favorite qualities of mine.

  Me: Totally not.

  Python: Monty?

  Me: Yes?

  Python: We’re cool, right? We’re good to just keep this light and fun and let it happen how it happens?

  Me: I’m scared.

  Python: Then walk away.

  Me: I can’t.

  Python: Then there’s your answer.

  Me: There it is.

  * * *

  Python: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  Me: THUMBELINA!

  Me: Can I confess something?

  Python: You tried to steal my rabbit, didn’t you?

  Me: …

  Me: Yes.

  Me: HOW DID YOU KNOW?!

  Python: Because she’s adorable as shit.

  Me: There is nothing adorable about human excrement.

  Python: Keep going, Monty. I love it when you talk dirty to me.

  Me: Gross. Stop it.

  Me: So what’s next for us? It’s been two days since…you know.

  Python: I’m sorry, are you asking to jump on my Magic Daddy Dick again? My, my, I didn’t realize you’d be such a little horndog.

  Me: I AM NOT ASKING THAT.

  Me: But if you’re offering…

  Me: IGNORE, IGNORE, IGNORE. Stupid voice to text. OMC

  Python: OMC?

  Python: Oh. Cats. Duh.

  Python: Just for the record, I am ALWAYS offering.

  Me: I’ll keep that in mind.

  * * *

  Me: Remember how I was all, “I’ll keep that in mind”, trying to play it cool about, you know, us.

  Python: You mean yesterday? Yes. Continue.

  Me: Well…

  Me: I’ll be there in twenty.

  Me: WAIT. Can I…can I bring food? I get hungry afterward.

  Python: Monty, I am hungry right now, but not for food. Make it quick.

  Me: I’m coming, I’m coming.

  Python: You will be.

  * * *

  Python: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  Me: Are those what I think they are?

  Python: You tell me. They came off your ass.

  Python: Which, by the way, is my favorite ass in all the land.

  Me: *rolls eyes* You’re just saying that to try to get lucky again.

  Python: Geez, all about the sex with you, huh, Monts?

  Me: Robert…

  Python: What? *blinks innocently*

  Me: Innocent my butt.

  Python: Mmm, dat ass though.

  Me: Did you just “mmm” my butt?

  Python: Yes, I did, AND I AM NOT ASHAMED.

  Me: OH NO. I just realized something. What if Thumbelina was running around and accidentally ate my panties? That would have been HORRIBLE!

  Python: I got you one better: what if MY SON had found them?

  Me: Oh. OH. Oh my. I feel sick.

  Python: You should, you sex-crazed vixen.

  Me: ROBBIE! I AM SERIOUS!

  Python: I AM TOO!

  Python: Seriously, though, it’s okay. He won’t be here for another few days so he wouldn’t have found them. I DO clean my apartment, you know.

  Me: I know, I know. I just worry.

  Me: Wait, your son…OMC, you’re a father!

  Python: Yes, yes. We’ve established that.

  Me: No! I mean, what are we going to do about that?

  Python: Oh. Um…well, fuck. I don’t know, actually. I’ve never had to introduce him to anyone before.

  Python: I mean, not to jump ahead or anything, because we’re just banging…but, you know, just in case. We should probably discuss this further. Over drinks. And sex. Lots and lots of sex.

  Me: Who’s the crazed sex vixen now?

  Python: Still you. Your title is safe.

  Me: You’re so mean.

  Python: But you like it when I’m mean.

  Me: Are you working tonight?

  Python: There she goes again…

  Me: UGH

  Python: Yes, I’m working the late shift. Sorry.

  Me: Darn. I was wanting that magic daddy wiener.

  Python: God. I wanna kiss you so fucking bad right now that I hate myself for it because you saying wiener is absolutely goddamn ridiculous and I hate that I love it.

  Me: I just want to kiss you because I like kissing you.

  Python: I’m screenshotting that.

  Sixteen

  Monty

  Me: I’m at a bar.

  Python: Looking for your next victim already?

  Me: Yes. You’re boring and a terrible lay.

  Python: That’s it, I’m spanking you tonight.

  Me: I’M KIDDING.

  Me: You are, however, the best I’ve ever had.

  Python: Don’t you threaten me with winning by default because it still counts.

  Python: Why are you at a bar?

  Me: Well, it’s more like I’m sitting at the bar of a restaurant. Still counts, right?

  Python: You are so badass with your day drinking.

  Me: Oh, hush. I’m having an iced tea and you know it. I’m out with my coworkers. We’re doing our weekly luncheon before I start work next week and before parent-teacher meetings tonight.

  Python: Are you nervous?

  Me: Completely. It’s my first big-girl job.

  Python: You’re going to do great.

  Me: Or the kids are going to hate me.

  Python: They won’t. Promise. Might have a crush on you, but they won’t hate you.

  Me: How do you get the kids at the center to adore you?

  Python: Candy. Lots and lots of candy.

  Me: Of course.

  Python: And my charm. I have a lot of it.

  Me: Yes, I’ve noticed.

  Me: Go ahead and screenshot that too.

  Python: Oh, I did.

  “You have a beautiful smile, Monty.”

  Brandon slides onto the stool next to me and I quickly tuck my phone back into my purse sitting on my lap.

  “Um, thank you, Mr. Donahue.”

  He grins, and it pales in comparison to Robbie’s.

  Robbie.

  My mind begins to drift to him and I have to redirect myself before I let my imagination run too wild, something that’s easy when it comes to the sexy-as-sin single father whose bed I’ve been occupying night after night.

  “I’ve told you, call me Brandon outside of school.”

  “Right. Sorry. Just feels weird to not maintain the same level of professionalism outside the classroom as we should inside the classroom.”

  My words are a dig at him and his inappropriate comments.

  He doesn’t catch it.

  Which isn’t surprising. Maybe I should ease up on him some. I mean, all he did was compliment my smile. That’s not too bad, right? Robbie says way worse stuff to me daily.

  But Brandon isn’t Robbie.

  “We’re friends outside the classroom, not coworkers. We have to let loose and have fun some time.”

  “Very true.”

  He nods toward my half-empty glass. “Need another drink?”

  “No, I—”

  “I’ll get you one,” he interrupts, heading down the bar to the bartender.

  I pull my phone from my purse once he’s turned his back.

  Python: Why are you texting me if you’re supposed to be at lunch?

  Me: Oh crud. Am I bothering you?

  Python: You never bother me, Monty. I was just curious why you weren’t enjoying hanging with your coworkers.

  Python: Wait, is Mr. Can’t Take a Hint there?

  Me: Yes. He’s why I’m hiding—keeps scooting closer and closer to my chair and into my space. Well, he’s why I was trying to hide. He decided to follow me to the bar. He’s buying me a drink right now.

  “Here you go. I got you that sweet tea you’ve been drinking.”

  “Thank y
ou,” I say politely, pretending to take a sip through the straw as he watches me the entire time. I hate sweet tea.

  “Are you nervous for tonight?”

  “A little,” I say honestly. “Mostly worried the parents are going to look at me like I’m stupid or something.”

  “They won’t. Besides, even if things go south, you get to do it all again next Wednesday for the other half of the parents.”

  “Ah, yes. Very considerate of the district to do, but also twice as nerve-racking.”

  He laughs. “Very true.”

  Tonight is night one of parent-teacher meetings, and night two is next Wednesday. The district is very aware of how many working and two-household families there are these days and want to ensure every parent can meet with the teacher, hence us having two separate events and me having to endure speaking in front of a room of adults twice.

  I’m so nervous about it that I wasn’t even able to eat all my lunch, and I love chicken fingers.

  “You’re going to be a great first-year teacher, Monty. I just know it. You have this…certain air about you, like this was meant to be your thing.”

  “I…wow. Thank you, Brandon. That means a lot coming from you.”

  I want to eat my words the moment I say them, especially when his cheeks flush.

  I go to tell him I didn’t mean them in any way other than friendly when my phone buzzes against the counter, interrupting me.

  “Python?” Brandon asks, glancing at the screen. “Is that a code name for someone?”

  I snatch my cell from the counter and quickly stash it in my purse. “It’s…uh…kind of, yes.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  The question takes me off guard.

  One, it feels so personal, and he shouldn’t be asking me questions like that.

  Two, is Robbie my boyfriend? How do I explain what he is to me? I let him do dirty things to me every now and again but he’s not my boyfriend does not sound like the appropriate answer…at all.

  I rack my brain, trying to find a better, simpler answer.

  “You know what? That’s none of my business. Sorry I asked.”

  I blow out a relieved breath. “He’s not my boyfriend. It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated? Ah, I’ve had one of those—many of those, actually. Want to know something interesting about me?” He waves his hand, beckoning me closer like he’s going to tell me a secret. “I used to be engaged.”

  I sit back at his statement, surprised.

  “Yep,” he says, taking another sip of his soda. “We were two months shy of getting married, invitations sent, venues booked, RSVPs noted—all that fun stuff. Then I caught her in bed…with our former gym teacher.”

  I gasp at his reveal, and the sadness sinks into his eyes.

  It’s a sadness I am all too familiar with.

  “I’m sorry, Brandon. I can relate to that on many levels,” I admit.

  Our eyes connect, and we share a moment of understanding.

  Maybe all his advances aren’t so much advances as a pursuit of friendship. Maybe I’m reading this whole thing wrong.

  I hope I am.

  “Yeah?” He lifts his drink and clinks it with mine. “I’m sorry too, Montana.” He clears the emotion building in his throat. “Well, now that I’ve made this extremely awkward, I’m going to head back to the table. I’ll let you get back to whoever you were texting.”

  “I’ll be back over there in a few minutes.”

  I watch him walk off, his shoulders resting a bit lower than before, and I feel bad for him.

  I want to race after him and give him a hug, because that’s just who I am, but I don’t want to give him the wrong impression…again.

  Maybe I can set him up with someone? Just to help get his mind off his bad breakup. Denny maybe?

  No. That girl would eat him alive. They’re total opposites.

  Like me and Robbie.

  Speaking of…

  I pull my phone from my purse and check for more messages. There are two waiting for me.

  Python: He still bugging you?

  Python: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  I gasp so loudly three patrons at the bar look my way.

  I don’t care, not even a little bit.

  My face is on fire as I stare down at the screen.

  Me: ROBERT CROSS. WHAT IN THE…

  Me: I think I may faint.

  Me: THAT IS YOUR WIENER!

  Python: I know. You’re welcome. Show him his competition.

  Me: I am not showing anyone that!

  Python: It’s okay to brag sometimes, Monty.

  Me: It’s not MY wiener—what do I have to brag about?

  Python: Um, that you’re totally hitting this.

  Me: Oh. Well, I guess I could brag about that.

  Me: But not with your dirty picture!

  Python: Because you’re keeping it all to yourself, right?

  Me: YES!

  Python: *waggles brows*

  My thighs tighten as I realize what he’s suggested.

  Pleasuring myself.

  Me: Not like that, you pervert!

  Python: Riiiiiiight.

  Me: Okay, maybe a little bit like that.

  Python: I knew it. You’re totally gonna flick your bean to that tonight.

  Yes.

  The thought makes me heat with embarrassment.

  Me: No comment.

  Python: SCREENSHOT

  Seventeen

  Robbie

  Me: So…last night was fun.

  Monty: It was okay.

  Me: OKAY? What about when I did that thing with my tongue? You were SCREAMING.

  Monty: You mean when you greeted me at your door by LICKING THE SIDE OF MY FACE?

  Me: Yes, and then you spent twenty minutes ignoring me and only playing with my bunny.

  Monty: Because you licked me, and it was gross!

  Me: You loved it.

  Monty: I hated it. HATED IT.

  Me: Liar.

  Monty: Go work or something.

  Me: Nah.

  Me: I like bothering you more.

  Monty: Well, I’M trying to work, so go away.

  Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  Me: Shh…don’t tell anyone.

  Monty: Tell me you didn’t…

  Me: Oh, I did.

  Monty: At work? Really?

  Me: What? She’s cute and lonely!

  Monty: Robbie, you have a bunny in your desk drawer. A BUNNY!

  Me: Stop judging me.

  Monty: I’m not.

  Monty: Fine, I am, but only a little.

  Monty: I am also very jealous because she’s the best little snuggle bunny ever.

  Me: I see what you did there.

  Monty: Good. Now go work.

  Me: Yes, ma’am.

  Me: Oooh, I kind of liked saying that.

  Monty: We are NOT adding that to our bedroom happenings.

  Me: We’ll see.

  * * *

  Monty: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  Monty: Does this outfit say “authoritative but fun”?

  Me: Pretty sure that one says, “Fuck me”.

  Monty: It does not! It’s a floor-length skirt and a blazer!

  Me: What? I have a problem when it comes to you and your old granny clothes. They’re so hot!

  Monty: Stop hitting on me and help! I need an outfit for my first day.

  Me: Just so we’re clear, I will never NOT hit on you.

  Me: But, yes, that’s a good first day outfit.

  Me: Now stop freaking out. You’re going to do great.

  Monty: Just a few more days.

  Me: Want me to give you a good dicking? That could help calm you down.

  Monty: I cannot believe I’m going to say this but…YES, PLEASE!

  Monty: When? Your lunch break? You get one of those, right?

  Me: What have I turned you into?

 

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