Let's Get Textual (Page 12)

Me: Sorry I zonked out on you. Not my fault you’re boring. ๐Ÿ˜› But really, thank you, for everything.

* * *

Zach: For you, any time.

Zach: Do you have a beard?

* * *

Me: I shaved this morning, so not anymore.

* * *

Zach: I see. Do you wear flannel?

* * *

Me: Um…sometimes?

* * *

Zach: Interesting. And do you wield an axe? Have an interest in logging?

* * *

Me: That’s a definitive no.

* * *

Zach: So you’re not a lumberjack?

* * *

Me: Not that I’m aware of.

* * *

Zach: Color me surprised. You sure do sound like you’re a pro at sawing logs when you’re sleeping.

* * *

Zach: P.S. I’m saying you snore—LOUD.

* * *

Me: MEAN!

* * *

Me: This coming from the dick-toucher?

* * *

Zach: I WASN’T TOUCHING MY DICK!

* * *

Me: Yet? Right, Zach? RIGHT?

* * *

Zach: I’m ignoring you now.

* * *

ME: Have a great day…dick-toucher.

* * *

Zach: I really hate that that made me snort laugh.

* * *

Me: I’ll be here all week, folks.

* * *

Zach: You’re the best wrong number that’s ever happened to me.

* * *

Me: I know. *winks*

Eight

It’s official.

I, Delia Devlin, have a crush.

On Marshmallow.

Ugh. Fine.

It’s on Zach.

We have been texting non-stop for three weeks. Hell, he bought a goat because of me! How can I not be crushing on him? Zach’s fun, and I need fun.

It wouldn’t be such a problem if I didn’t drop everything the moment my phone buzzes or chimes, or if he wasn’t the first person I thought of every morning…and the last every night.

Erase all of that and this crush nonsense wouldn’t mean a thing.

But it’s all true. So, it matters.

The familiar buzz of my phone alerts me to a text.

A smile forms, because I know who it is.

See? There I go again.

Zach: Hear me out. You earned me another client.

* * *

Me: Why is that? And another? How’d I snag you the first one?

* * *

Zach: Remember the guy whose number I got wrong? Well, I saved that job because I told him about your smart mouth.

* * *

Me: So you’re spreading lies?

* * *

Zach: Am I, Delia? Am I really?

* * *

Me: Well…I guess not.

* * *

Zach: That’s exactly what I thought.

* * *

Zach: I mean, I used MY charm to win him over too.

* * *

Me: You dug down deep then, huh?

* * *

Zach: Why, my dear, are you saying I don’t have charm? I’m shocked!

* * *

Me: Are you, Zach? Are you really?

* * *

Zach: There’s that sense of humor again.

* * *

Me: Why do I feel like you meant that in a sarcastic manner?

* * *

Zach: Because I did.

* * *

Zach: Anyway, as I was saying, I scored ANOTHER client because of you and our meet cute.

* * *

Me: We have a meet cute?

* * *

Zach: Yes, our wrong number situation. Try to keep up.

* * *

Me: Sorry, sorry. Please continue.

* * *

Zach: After I told her about that, she was all giggly and whatnot. Then, WHAM. I laid it on thick. I told her about Marshmallow and his future brothers. I’m almost certain her panties were on the floor by the end of the phone call.

* * *

Me: AH HA! You admit it! Marshy is getting brothers!!

* * *

Me: Also, you’re welcome for charming the PANTIES off your client. *bows*

* * *

Zach: Excuse me, I (stressing this) was the panty-charmer.

* * *

Zach: They didn’t call me Zach the Panty-Charmer in college for nothing. ๐Ÿ˜‰

“What’s so funny?”

S**t. I didn’t realize I was laughing out loud, and I’m a total dick because we’re supposed to be having girl time right now and here I am texting Zach.

Again.

See why this crush is a problem?

“Oh, uh, nothing important.”

Zoe hijacks my phone and I try with all my might to snatch it back, but damn her and her freakishly long arms. I watch as she scrolls through my text conversations, her brows pinching together before they shoot up in surprise.

“Who in the hell is this, D?”

“His name is Zach.”

“Yes, I can read that, but who is he?”

I wring my hands together. “I, um…well, I don’t really know who he is. As you can see, there was a bit of confusion. After we talked—”

“Wait,” Zoe interrupts, holding her hand up. “You talked to him? Like in person?”

“On the phone. Twice.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“How sexy was his voice?”

Feeling the blush creep up my face, I cover the evidence from my best friend, but she’s fast, grabbing my hands and yanking them away. She holds them in her own, staring into my eyes with a mischievous grin.

“You little minx, you! You’ve been holding out.”

“It’s…gah! Zoe, it’s so hot. All gruff and deep.” I don’t care that I sound like a silly teenager right now. Zach’s voice is hot.

“What’d you guys talk about?”

“The first time it was to set the record straight on who we are. The second time…” My mouth feels dry, because I know what I’m about to reveal to Zoe will upset her. It’s not like I was intentionally hiding my Netflix night with Zach. I…well I don’t even understand what’s happening with Zach. How am I supposed to explain that to Zoe?

“D? The second time?”

“Friday.”

“As in this past Friday? Like two days ago?”

“Yes?”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you asking or telling me?”

“Telling?”

“Delia!”

“Fine! Telling! It was this past Friday. We kind of, uh, watched a show together.”

“He drove over here?”

“Over the phone. It began with texting but after he bought me dinner—”

“WHAT!” she explodes, interrupting me. “How?”

“He called around and found out where I had ordered wings from. We had planned to eat the same thing.” Zoe’s eyes are huge, her attention focused on my lips as she absorbs every word coming out of my mouth. “It was sweet, in a creepy stalker kind of way. Anyway, I called him after my food arrived already paid for and we never hung up.”

“That’s why you were sitting in the living room in the middle of the night.”

“That’s why.”

“Anything else I should know?”

I chew my lip, working up the courage to tell her about our night two weeks ago. Screw it. I have to tell her. She’s my best friend, and it’s only right.

“Remember our night out?”

She taps her chin. “Hmm…Lola’s?” I nod. “What about it?”

“Well…”

“Out with it!”

I hold my hands out. “Okay, okay. My cash was stolen out of my purse and you were shitfaced and I promised Caleb I wouldn’t walk home because it was late and I didn’t want any trouble so…Zach rescued us.”

She jackknifes off the couch, standing over me looking wild as a cat. “You put drunk me and sober you in a car with this guy? What!”

“No! He paid for our cab fare and even tipped the driver for us.”

She sits back down on the couch, folding her legs under her and placing her hands in her lap. She appears docile, and the act is almost believable. “Oh. Well, that was kind of him. So…are you planning to, like, meet him?”

“WHAT? No! I can’t do that!”

“But he’s local, yeah?”

I tilt my head, skeptical of where she’s going with this. “Yes…”

“Perfect!” She claps her hands together. “Then you’re meeting him.”

“No! No way!”

All at once, she’s hitting keys on my phone and bringing it up to her ear. I jump into action, but I’m too late.

I hear it.

“Delia.” His voice slides over the line, smooth and in control. “What have I done to deserve this pleasant surprise?”

I snatch the phone away as Zoe opens her mouth to speak; she’s too distracted by his voice.

“I-I…” I sound nervous—because I am nervous. I just don’t understand why.

“Spit it out, dear. I have work, you know.”

“Did you just dear me, Zachary?”

“First, my name isn’t Zachary. It’s Zach. S—”

“Is it really?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rising into a question. “Why is that surprising?”

“I assumed Zach was shortened down from Zachary or Zachariah.”

“Nah. My mom wanted something simple, I guess. It’s just Zach.”

“Can I still call you Zachary?”

“No.” His voice is stern. I ignore him.

“We’ll see.”

“Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, yes I did dear you, dear Delia. Now, what did you need?”

“Oh…nothing.”