Page 21 of Anti-Player

Why deny it? I begin to type with my thumbs.

:

Me: Want to get a latelunch?

Paige: I wish. I've got to get on camera in five minutes.

Me: Damn.

Paige: Sorry!

Me: Don't be, I understand.

:

I'm not lying—I dounderstand. I still feel a prickle of frustration. As I ready myself to get back to my own work, another text comes through.

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Paige: Dinner?

:

The surge of excitementfilling my body makes my vision blur.

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Me: I've always beenan evening person anyway.

Paige: Seeing how early you woke me the other morning, I wouldn't have guessed.

Me: Can't say I regret how that turned out.

Paige: >__>

Me: Is that an angry face or a suspicious one?

Paige: Neither. It's me throwing daggers with my eyes. You're distracting me.

Me: I'm distracted thanks to you mentioning the last time we were together.

Paige: OMG okay just pick me up at seven.

Me: Yes ma'am. Any preference on where we eat?

Paige: None, we'll eat what you like.

Me: I like you.

Paige: >____> >_____> >____>

:

I laugh at her barrageof messages. Her sense of humor meshes with mine. It feels so damn good to be on the same wavelength. Have I ever met a woman so comfortable around me she can throw a barb or three while still managing to flirt?

You work too much to date properly, I think, holding my phone against my chest. I shut my eyes and chuckle. It's more than that, idiot. You know it is. I'm working more than ever and still, I'm finding ways to spend time with Paige.

I'd once heard my mother say, “If you want to make time for someone, you will.” It was such an obvious statement it belonged on a generic calendar in some cubicle. But she's right, of course. We always make time for the things we want.

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