Goddammit.
I stared at the phone, waiting for Bailey to respond and wondering when in the hell I’d lost all common sense. Had I seriously just admitted to the one person in the world that didn’t mindfuck me on a regular basis that I liked making her smile?
I was a moron.
Yes, Charlie, you should absolutely admit that you like making her smile. That is a brilliant way to ensure your coworker exits your life.
The phone lit up in my hands.
Bailey: Well my favorite thing about you is the way your voice gets deep and crackly when you’re tired.
Well, shit. I rolled over, the bar of the pullout sofa totally digging into my back, and I texted: The only thing you like about me is my voice??
Bailey: Not what I said. I said it’s my FAVORITE thing, because you’re relaxed and mellow when your voice gets like that. Your edges soften a little.
My edges.
I wasn’t sure how she knew me so well, how she’d somehow always seen me.
I spent most of my time feeling like everyone in my life didn’t get me, yet there was Glasses, seeing right through me.
Bailey: Should I have a pet name for you?
I smiled in the darkness, wondering how best to irritate her. How about King?
Bailey: Gross
I pictured her eyebrows scrunching up as I texted: Lover?
Bailey: You’re making me queasy. I’ll just stick with Charlie.
I replied: Or Sex God?
Bailey: No one in the history of the world has ever used Sex God as a pet name. Can you even imagine?? Example: Can you pick up milk on the way home, Sex God? DOESN’T WORK.
I chuckled and texted: I would fucking speed to the milk store if you sent me that.
Bailey: The milk store?
I wanted to laugh as I replied: You’re biting your cheek right now, aren’t you?
Bailey: LMAO that is scary.
Me: But true.
Bailey: Sleep tight.
I smiled in the darkness. Good night, Lover.
Bailey: Good night… Sex God.
Oh. Fuck.
What was I doing?
