Page 38 of Desserts for Stressed People

Shane:

Ready?

I react to his message with a thumbs-up.

3...2...1...

When the next message saysGo, I press play, and once again, we’re watching my favorite movie together.

So...how was your day?

I sigh. My day with him was exciting, tense, emotional, lovely. It was a million different things, and I wish I could tell him, but I can’t.

Nevaeh:

Long and interesting. How was yours?

Shane:

Good. Even better now that Marty is about to save the present as we know it.

My chuckle quickly turns into a sigh. I can’t pretend I’m not enjoying this as much as I am, but there is something that I can’t find an explanation for. When my fingers itch and I can’t hold them back, I type.

Nevaeh:

Why do you keep texting me?

Shane:

Whatever do you mean?

Now that we’ve spent some time together, I know his eyes are probably two thin lines on his face. I still imagine him in the blue suit he’s wearing in his first profile picture, sitting on his leather couch and staring intently at his phone.

Nevaeh:

Your profile says you’re not looking for anything serious. But you keep texting me, and you never ask me to meet.

I stare at the screen and struggle to believe I’ve actually sent that message. What if he says he knows it’s me, Heaven? That the whole reversed name gimmick isn’t quite as clever as I thought? Or what if he says he wants to meet?

He doesn’t answer. I wait, but he’s always fast in texting back.

Sweat dampens my armpits. Did I offend him? Is he going to leave me on read? Is he angry? I sit up straighter and move my head around, trying to stretch the muscles of my neck, and when I look back at the phone, the three dots are flashing.

“Oh, thank God.” My head’s almost spinning, and now I’m a whole different type of nervous. What is he going to say?

Shane:

I could say the same thing about you.

And before you point out that I’m the one who always texts you, let me remind you of the fact that you answered.

And before you point out that you’ve ignored me several times, let me remind you of the fact that at some point you’ve always answered.

My cheeks tingle as I bite my lips. These texts can’t feel that good. They aren’t for me, not really. But, man, they warm me up like a fireplace.

Nevaeh:

I guess you could say the same thing about me. How about you give me your reason and I give you mine?

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