Page 22 of Country Charm

Me: Do you want a library?

Cassidy: Are you asking for a BJ?

Me: NO!

Jeez, this woman is worse than I was. Her mind goes in two directions. Sex and books. I’m not complaining, but I am trying to get her to open up more.

We text a little bit more before she tells me she’s going to get back to her book.

I finish my beer and head in. She’s not ignoring or blocking me, so I’ll take that as a small victory.

Chapter Thirteen

Cassidy

Monday.

Me: Do you read?

Country Charm: I feel like I’m going to regret telling you this.

Country Charm: I like poetry.

I literally feel myself swoon. A lightness in my chest spreads through me, and I have to try my hardest to push the feeling away. A lot of girls I know prefer men who have nice cars, motorcycles, a specific sense of fashion, the list goes on. I like a well-read man. I haven’t met a lot of them. Then again, I didn’t ask a lot of the men who I previously slept with if they read.

I didn’t really care what they did. I kind of, just barely, care what Hunter does.

Country Charm: I also don’t mind a good series. I grew up on HP and LOTR.

He likesHarry PotterandLord of the Rings. Double swoon. Nerdy, in shape, takes care of himself, and demanding in the bedroom. I need to block this number right away.

Tuesday.

Country Charm: Pillow Thoughts, Page 11

I make way to my front room, finding the book and page for his reference.

Yup. I’m fucked. Damn you Country Charm.

Wednesday.

Me: What time do you go to bed?

Country Charm: Usually or lately?

Me: Usually.

Country Charm: About 8 latest 9.

Damn, I feel bad. I’ve been texting Hunter consistently since Sunday. It’s been a few days, and if I’m honest every time my phone goes off, I hope it’s him. We talk about stupid things and real things.

We mostly text at night because he’s out in the field during the day and I’m at the office, but even then, we still find little moments to text each other.

Then there’s the poetry. He sends me poetry, like actual poems. My brain cannot process how hot I think that is. It’s like a verbal aphrodisiac.

Last night he sent me a poem about lust and connection.Wanda and I spent a solid five minutes imagining him whispering those words to me as I was coming on my valued silicone friend.

Lynn asked me how things were going, and I shamefully lied to her. I’ve barely ever lied to the girls, and most of the time they were to set up a surprise. They were never meant to be lies to mislead them. This lie is purely out of pride. When she asked if he texted me, I said yes and then told her how I was not talking to some farmer boy who lives in the middle of nowhere.

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