Page 52 of The Thorne at My Side
I shrug as best I can with my hands holding me to a wall 20 feet in the air. "Maybe, I haven't thought about it much."
"Except constantly."
I laugh, “well yeah, the sex is really good."
"So are you going to try and become her friend and turn it into a relationship?"
"I dunno," I admit as I move a little more quickly up the wall. I haven't told Felix that I signed up for SMS Connect. Both of us have commiserated over girls wanting to be with us because of our status or position instead of for who we are.
"Actually, I do know," I tell him once he catches up and we're only a few more paces from the top. "I don't think I'll do anything more than sex with Ma–, her," shit I almost said her name. "A few months ago I signed up for that SMS Connect service."
"Oh really?" Felix confirms. "And how's that going?"
"Well, you can't tell anyone I'm on it, I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but the girl I'm talking with is great. I actually like texting with her."
"Have you met her?"
"Not yet. Next week is the earliest we could meet."
The twelve weeks messaging with TalkShopGirl have flown by. It feels like we've been talking forever, like she's always been a part of my life. Even though she's not really a part of it at all.
She's in my head, that's probably the best way to describe it. When I'm alone, or on the way to the office, I find myself wondering who she is and what she's doing at that moment.
Except when I'm with, or thinking about, Maggie Collins. When she and I are in the room together at work, or better yet at her apartment, all I can think about is her. This is all a little confusing; two girls, two different scenarios but both leave me feeling satisfied and seen.
CHAPTER 16
Small Venn Diagram
MAGGIE
The debate is in an hour and I've sweat through my body suit. Needless to say, I'm nervous. This is the senator's first national debate since the primaries at the beginning of the year and it is the very first time we're relying on AI Media.
I hate to admit that the practice questions we went through last week went well. The AI Media content sounded like the senator's voice and was tailored to the audience. We're on a college campus and while the audience will mostly be filled with pundits and wannabe politicians, we insisted on at least 25% of the audience being students.
The senator does well with younger voters.
She’s the younger candidate, the cooler one. She’s energized a new set of voters who were disengaged in prior elections. But the race is still tight in the battleground states. When I remember how high the stakes are my eye twitches.
Austin and I haven't had sex since last week. I blame myself. I haven't asked for it. But after I complimented his sexual abilities, I couldn’t seem to get myself to text. The man gave me not one, but two orgasms with me on my back, and my brain has been foggy ever since.
Then when he walked into the office two days later he looked so freaking good that I could hardly handle it. I avoided eye contact or responding to him directly. I passed questions or comments off to Sam and she definitely noticed something was up but hasn't said a word.
I can tell that's about to change.
"So, last week it was clear that you were getting your needs met and that it was helping you chill out. Now?" She points at the line of boob sweat that is only growing with her attention on it, "Why aren't you using your stress reduction methods?"
I shove her hand to the side and reach for my blazer. The idea of putting more clothes on my sweating body makes me nauseous but it'll help to cover up the sweat stains. "I haven't had the time."
"Well make the time because you're makingmenervous and I live for live television."
I laugh because it's true. Sam was born to be in the spotlight. I probably should have her do the podcast and news show appearances from now on.
"Okay, we're ready for the senator," a production assistant with a headset says to me and I nod at Sam.
"Showtime!" Sam accentuates with jazz hands as she walks towards the classroom down the hall that is serving as a green room.
I take one last look at the printed notes the senator will use and then find myself pacing two steps in one direction and two steps back.
