hardly wait.
That night, when I’d finally left the lonely office around nine thirty, picked up a fast food salad from a late-night drive thru, and settled in on the couch to catch up on my recorded shows, my cell phone chirped with an incoming text and my hopes immediately soared.
When I reached over to the end table and saw it was from Beck, a huge smile grew on my face. I couldn’t help but bounce up and down on the cushions. Pausing an episode of The Voice, I blew a kiss to Adam Levine and told him I had another man to deal with. Yes, I was obsessed with far too many male musicians to count, but there was no harm in my outlandish obsessions over the unattainable. It was the one I had with my brother’s best friend that I had to worry about.
Beck: Whatcha doing?
Me: Drooling over Adam Levine.
Beck: God, my competition is fierce. First JT and now Adam?
Me: They’ve got nothing on the Beckster.
Beck: rolling my eyes
Me: I love getting under your skin.
Beck: I love getting over your skin—with my tongue.
I loved our schmexy texts, as Fallon had put it, but I was seriously bone tired and couldn’t see myself being that creative tonight.
Me: Oh, B. Don’t get me riled up. I’m exhausted and I have to be on the road early tomorrow to help Marcus set up.
Beck: Well, that’s actually why I’m texting you.
Me: To rile me up? ;)
Beck: That and… I wanted to see if you needed a ride. We can go together.
Together? Was he kidding? My fingers typed “yes” then erased the letters, then typed “no” and erased those too. I was stuck with no way to answer this reasonably. Finally, I decided on what was best.
Me: Probably not a good idea. We don’t want to give anyone anything to talk about.
Beck: Ah, fuck ‘em. Let’s let ‘em talk!
Me: Yeah? You’re ready to deal with Marcus and tell him you’re banging his sister?
Beck: Correction: BANGED his sister. You’ve been holding out on me all week.
Me: Me? You had work!
Beck: And now you’re tired. I could’ve come over tonight and really wore you out.
Me: LOL. As appealing as that sounds, I still have to pack, tie up some loose ends, and do all those fun things us women have to do in order to look decent in a bathing suit.
Beck: All you have to do is put one on and you’ll look drop dead gorgeous.
Me: Aw, thanks
Beck: Now, seriously. Want to drive up together?
I wanted to say yes so badly, but it was a bad idea for so many different reasons. The biggest one being that if anything went wrong over the next few days I’d have to figure out another way to get home.
Me: B, thanks for the offer, but I still think it’s a bad idea.
Beck: Can I ask you something?
Me: Sure.
Beck: Are you afraid this whole thing is a bad idea?
Was this his way of letting me off easy because he thought exactly that? Or did he genuinely want to know what I thought?
Me: You first.
Beck: You’re a PITA, but fine my answer is… no. I don’t think this is a bad idea.
Why did that make me so damn happy?
Me: I don’t think so either, and I’m glad we got this out in the open, even if it IS over text, but I still think we need to lay low. Don’t you?
Beck: Yes, oh wise one. As much as I’d love to shock the shit out of a few people with our unexpected canoodling, I think you’re right. No need to rock the boat just yet.
Me: B?
Beck: Hmm?
Me: I really like canoodling and rocking the boat with you. And I don’t know where this is going or IF it’s going anywhere but can you promise me one thing?
Beck: I’ll try.
Me: Please don’t hurt me.
It was a tall order to ask of someone, but I already sensed that my heart was a part of this complicated equation. I’d had it painfully bruised in the past; I needed all the assurance I could get.
Beck: Sweet thing, I wouldn’t dream of
That night, when I’d finally left the lonely office around nine thirty, picked up a fast food salad from a late-night drive thru, and settled in on the couch to catch up on my recorded shows, my cell phone chirped with an incoming text and my hopes immediately soared.
When I reached over to the end table and saw it was from Beck, a huge smile grew on my face. I couldn’t help but bounce up and down on the cushions. Pausing an episode of The Voice, I blew a kiss to Adam Levine and told him I had another man to deal with. Yes, I was obsessed with far too many male musicians to count, but there was no harm in my outlandish obsessions over the unattainable. It was the one I had with my brother’s best friend that I had to worry about.
Beck: Whatcha doing?
Me: Drooling over Adam Levine.
Beck: God, my competition is fierce. First JT and now Adam?
Me: They’ve got nothing on the Beckster.
Beck: rolling my eyes
Me: I love getting under your skin.
Beck: I love getting over your skin—with my tongue.
I loved our schmexy texts, as Fallon had put it, but I was seriously bone tired and couldn’t see myself being that creative tonight.
Me: Oh, B. Don’t get me riled up. I’m exhausted and I have to be on the road early tomorrow to help Marcus set up.
Beck: Well, that’s actually why I’m texting you.
Me: To rile me up? ;)
Beck: That and… I wanted to see if you needed a ride. We can go together.
Together? Was he kidding? My fingers typed “yes” then erased the letters, then typed “no” and erased those too. I was stuck with no way to answer this reasonably. Finally, I decided on what was best.
Me: Probably not a good idea. We don’t want to give anyone anything to talk about.
Beck: Ah, fuck ‘em. Let’s let ‘em talk!
Me: Yeah? You’re ready to deal with Marcus and tell him you’re banging his sister?
Beck: Correction: BANGED his sister. You’ve been holding out on me all week.
Me: Me? You had work!
Beck: And now you’re tired. I could’ve come over tonight and really wore you out.
Me: LOL. As appealing as that sounds, I still have to pack, tie up some loose ends, and do all those fun things us women have to do in order to look decent in a bathing suit.
Beck: All you have to do is put one on and you’ll look drop dead gorgeous.
Me: Aw, thanks
Beck: Now, seriously. Want to drive up together?
I wanted to say yes so badly, but it was a bad idea for so many different reasons. The biggest one being that if anything went wrong over the next few days I’d have to figure out another way to get home.
Me: B, thanks for the offer, but I still think it’s a bad idea.
Beck: Can I ask you something?
Me: Sure.
Beck: Are you afraid this whole thing is a bad idea?
Was this his way of letting me off easy because he thought exactly that? Or did he genuinely want to know what I thought?
Me: You first.
Beck: You’re a PITA, but fine my answer is… no. I don’t think this is a bad idea.
Why did that make me so damn happy?
Me: I don’t think so either, and I’m glad we got this out in the open, even if it IS over text, but I still think we need to lay low. Don’t you?
Beck: Yes, oh wise one. As much as I’d love to shock the shit out of a few people with our unexpected canoodling, I think you’re right. No need to rock the boat just yet.
Me: B?
Beck: Hmm?
Me: I really like canoodling and rocking the boat with you. And I don’t know where this is going or IF it’s going anywhere but can you promise me one thing?
Beck: I’ll try.
Me: Please don’t hurt me.
It was a tall order to ask of someone, but I already sensed that my heart was a part of this complicated equation. I’d had it painfully bruised in the past; I needed all the assurance I could get.
Beck: Sweet thing, I wouldn’t dream of
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