Page 69 of The Problem with Princes

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That must have come when my phone died between Ft. Lauderdale and DC.

HPT: I just checked the flight tracker and I know you’ve landed. How was the flight home? Sorry, you’re probably asleep.

HPT: I’ve given you time to sleep. Are you feeling better?

HPT: I had hoped we might at least be friends. What do you think?

HPT: If you don’t want to be friends, I understand.

I can see his frown deepening with each message that is going unanswered. He probably thinks I’m mad at him. Hmm. When had I come to know him so well?

My phone chimes again.

HPT: Okay. If you don’t answer this one, I will leave you alone. I promise.

I type a response.

Me: What does HTP mean?

HPT: What???

Me: The name on your contact. It says HPT. I assumed you added it.

HPT: red faced emoji. I forgot about that.

Me: So???

HPT: Hot Prince Tyrone. Hand covering face emoji

Me: Bawahahaha

HPT: So you haven’t slept then, because that response felt a bit mean.

Me: You call three hours giving me time to sleep?

HPT: Sorry. Did I wake you?

I put my phone on the counter and pull on my clothes as I try to respond.

Me: No. I have to be at the office in an hour.

I pause before I hit send.My brain says this is a bad idea. But the rest of me doesn’t care. I miss him like crazy. I want to have something with him, even if it is just friendship. I jab the send button on my phone.

HPT: Sorry you have to go back to work so soon. I was worried you might think I am stalking you.

Me: Hey, I’m the crazy stalker, remember.

HPT: Well, crazy at least. Winky face emoji.

I laugh as I snuggle into my comforter.

Me: I don’t think you know me at all. I’m not crazy. I’m a weirdo. Geez, get it right.

He sends me a laughing emoji.

HPT: You never answered my question.

Me: ???

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