Page 15 of Text Me Baby One More Time

Shepard:It’s just… No. I’m not telling you this shit. It’s mushy.

Denver:You tell me a secret and I’ll tell you one of mine. Like last time.

Shepard:Fine. Here goes…

Shepard:My dad always called me Slugger. It was his thing and I hated it when he was around, but after he passed, I missed it all the time. Enter my stepdad, Jack. He was into the whole Slugger nickname too. I missed my dad so much that I loved it when Jack called me that, so I didn’t mind. I kind of thought it was…

Shepard:Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but…I thought it was fate or some shit, like it was meant to be between him and my mom, Rose.

Shepard:Anyway, he called me Slugger, but then…then he and Zach shortened it to Slug because, and I’ll be honest here, I kind of turned into a conceited prick for a bit when I was about 14/15. They said I was “slimy like a slug”. My team picked up on the nickname. AJ picked up on it. It stuck. I became Slug.

Denver:I have a lot of comments.

Denver:1. Your mom’s name is Rose, and your dad’s name is Jack? Like Titanic?

Shepard:Your parents let you watch Titanic?

Denver:I watched it at Allie’s. She’s obsessed with Leo.

Shepard:Yes, those are their names. They met at grief counseling. They’re both widowed.

Denver:I’m sorry for both of their losses. And yours. As much as my parents drive me bonkers and I hate living under their rules, I can’t imagine losing one of them.

Denver:2. I promise to only ever call you Slug when I truly hate you. It’ll be code so you’ll know I’m pissed.

Shepard:I think you just called us friends again.

Denver:Shut up, Shep.

Four

Shepard

Dog food.

All I was going to the store for was some damn dog food.

But here I am, hard as a fucking rock while driving down the county road with Denver Andrews as my passenger.

She spoons a mouthful of mint chocolate chip ice cream into her mouth and moans.

Again.

Is she trying to fucking kill me?

She hopped into my truck with her bags and immediately began rummaging around in my glovebox, not stopping until she found the lone random plastic spoon in there, and then she proceeded to pop open a pint of my favorite ice cream.

Sheknowsit’s my favorite too.

“I didn’t expect you to drive a truck.”

“Yeah?”

She shakes her head. “You don’t seem like a truck guy.”

“What kind of guy do I seem like, Den?”

“An asshole.”

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