Well Played (Well Met #2)(12)

Jesus Christ, phone. That’s where you chose to cut off the preview? Despite the heat of early afternoon, I went cold all over. Tingles spread from the back of my neck down my arms, every little hair standing at attention, while my entire consciousness focused on that one little word on my phone screen. But.

I’d been resigned to him not writing back. Not hearing back from him was a rejection, sure, but it was a passive one. This message, with its “but,” was going to be a much more active kind of rejection, and I didn’t know if I could handle it. Oh, God, I didn’t want a message from Dex cataloging my many faults, but here it was. I’d messed up big-time.

I didn’t want to open the message, but if I ignored it, that little (1) icon would bug me for the rest of my life. I considered throwing my phone away entirely. Getting a new number. Maybe a new identity while I was at it. People did it all the time in movies. How hard could it be?

Instead, I sank down to sit on the stairs leading up to my apartment, certain my legs wouldn’t carry me up to the top until I ripped off the Band-Aid and opened the message. I drew in a long, slow breath and clicked on the message before I let myself change my mind.


I have to say first that getting your message last night was such a surprise. But it was probably the best, most welcome surprise I’ve had since I can remember.



“Oh my God.” I leaned back against the railing and let relief wash over me. That was a good “but” after all. I pressed one hand to my chest, trying to calm my racing heart, and kept reading.

    For one thing, I’m glad you finally told me your full name. After knowing each other for so long, you’d think I’d know it already. I guess it just never came up, huh?

On to the more important things:

Lots of things make me laugh. My cousin doing something stupid, which happens almost daily, so that’s good news for me. Japanese cat videos. Dogs wearing sweaters. I don’t know why on that last one. They just usually look so bewildered by the whole idea of wearing clothes that it makes me laugh.

No sugar, but a good dollop of cream. I mean a GOOD dollop. Several dollops, actually. So much that I almost have to put my coffee in the microwave to make it hot again.

I love cats. See above re: Japanese cat videos. I’ve never had one myself, but they’ve always fascinated me. They’re these perfect little predators, yet we let them curl up on our laps like they wouldn’t eat our faces if we died in the night. Hmm, that got morbid. They’re also really soft, and I hear that sometimes they let you pet their bellies. I like that.

And Stacey, I do miss you. More than I should. More than I have any right to, for someone who’s not really in your life. For all the time we spend on the road (and to answer that question, it’s a lot; we’re on the road more than we’re home, and that’s really only for a month or two around the holidays), I’ll tell you here and now that your smile is something I look forward to seeing every summer. And now I’m looking forward to seeing it more.

I’m between shows right now, so I have to run. I don’t have time to come up with questions to ask you, so how about this: Tell me something. Something I don’t know about you. Which, let’s face it, is just about everything.



That long, slow breath escaped in a whoosh as I read over Dex’s words. I read his message twice, and the cold feeling that had enveloped me was quickly replaced with heat. My cheeks burned, and I put one palm to my face in an effort to cool them.

He missed me too. Well. That certainly changed things. I didn’t hesitate, didn’t even go all the way up the stairs into my apartment. My thumbs flew over my phone’s keyboard as I composed a quick message back.


Dex,


I owe you an apology. For the past couple summers we’d said that there was nothing more to us than what we did in bed (NOT THAT I’M COMPLAINING ABOUT THOSE THINGS). I thought you were never interested in getting to know me. I thought that all you were looking for was . . . well, what we were already doing.

And here we were missing each other. I guess that’s what I get for not speaking up sooner. But you could have too, you know. Though I guess you just did.

Have a great show today. Or shows. It’s early in the day still.

Something you don’t know about me: I told you my last name, but you still don’t know my first name. Here’s a hint: it’s not Stacey.

Stacey (or am I?)



Before I could lose my nerve, I hit Send. Always leave them wanting more, right?

My legs only shook a little as I pulled myself to my feet and up the stairs to my place. He missed me. He loved my smile. I traced the wings on my dragonfly necklace with one hand as I unlocked my door. “Change,” I whispered to myself. That’s what I’d been looking for, after all. Maybe these messages were the first step toward making that happen. Toward finally moving forward and getting a life of my own.





Four




A watched pot never boils, and a watched phone never . . . lights up with a text. Something like that. I was never good with metaphors. The point was, Dex didn’t message me back right away, and I was almost mad at myself for thinking he would. He’d said he was between shows, hadn’t he? I needed to get a grip.

I was so caught up in waiting for Dex to message me that it took a good hour and a half to remember that Emily had texted me too. Have extra copies of April’s book club book if you want to come pick one up! I’d just seen her at brunch, but the only other thing I had to do today was laundry, and that could wait. Besides, going to see Em would distract me from my darkened phone and its lack of notifications, so I grabbed my keys and headed downtown to Read It & Weep, the bookstore Emily managed.