Chapter 14 Olivia
OLIVIA
Mr. Wrong Number: Good morning, sweetheart. Thirteen more days. I hope you know I’m in for the long haul.
I grin, smiling at my first text message of the day while sipping my morning coffee.
Holding my phone out, I turn my head to take a photo, allowing him to see the messy hair that I have thrown up in a bun on top of my head.
Pieces are sticking out everywhere. I’m in an oversized gray crew neck shirt that says New York across the front in big blue block letters.
And he gave me a pet name? How am I supposed to keep myself guarded for these next two weeks when he’s acting like he’s all in?
Maybe he isn’t acting at all…
I press send, take a sip of my coffee, and then my phone blares. Victoria’s name flashes across the screen. I haven’t seen either Victoria or Amber since my birthday; they’ve been busy with work lately and we haven’t had a lot of time to catch up.
“Vic!” I greet, unable to keep the excitement from showing in my voice.
“We are going shopping today. Me, you, Amber, and your mom.”
“My mom? You’ve talked to my mom before I’ve talked to her today?” My phone vibrates and I pull it away from my ear to see that my mystery guy has texted me back with an image.
I put Victoria on speaker so I can click his message open, and I gasp when I see what it is.
“What? What is it?” Victoria screeches. “What’s wrong?”
“What? No, nothing. Nothing at all. I’m not busy. We can definitely go shopping today.”
I can’t believe what I’m looking at.
It’s a box with a cock on the packaging. At the top it reads “Mold me for your deepest desires.”
Mr. Wrong Number: Let me know your address because I’ll be sending this to you. You’ll be fucking yourself with my cock only. Mine. No one else’s. I’m not sure if we made that clear, but the only person you’ll be fucking is me. This is exclusive, sweetheart. No one else gets to have you.
“Hello! Are you listening to me? Okay, what’s going on?”
I snap back to reality, my attention never leaving his text message. “What time do you want to go shopping?”
“No, you’re not doing that. You’re not changing the conversation. Tell me. What’s going on?” she probes, wanting all the juicy gossip.
“I’ll tell you more when we meet. What do you want to do first? Want to start with brunch?”
She whines. “Can’t you give me a little detail? Just something…something to hold me over until I get more details?”
“I’ve been….kind of dating. I think I might be seeing someone,” I mumble, and proceed to pull my phone away just as she screams.
“What! Oh my god, since when? You have to tell me everything. I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me. Wait, I’m calling Amber.”
“No! No, don’t—”
It’s too late. The three-way call is happening.
“Helloooo,” Amber sings as she answers.
“Olivia is on the line too and she is dating someone!” Vic isn’t upset, but she loves to be dramatic.
I sigh when Amber gasps, “What? Who? What’s his name?”
Right. His name. His name that I don’t know.
“Listen, guys. I love you. You’re my best friends, but it’s so new.
Brand-new. There isn’t much to tell yet.
” Because how the hell am I going to explain that on my birthday, I drunk-messaged the wrong number, and we’ve been sexting, and now we’ve agreed to kind of date and not meet for two weeks to continue to get to know each other?
Well, I guess I could say those words exactly, but I don’t want to hear any judgment from my friends. I know they’ll say that I don’t know this man, or I haven’t even seen him, and their opinions would be right. I don’t know this guy, but I want to. And I don’t care what he looks like.
I want more than looks.
I want something deeper than beauty.
“Fine,” Vic groans. “Keep your secrets. Can we know anything about him?”
There’s plenty to know. I’m not ready to share it. He’s all mine. “Not yet. I promise, one day, but right now, I just want to stay in my bubble with him, if that makes sense.”
“I understand, Liv,” Amber interjects, and even though I can’t see her, I can see the smile on her face. “We will be ready to hear you when you’re ready, right, Vic?” She draws out Vic’s name, urging her to agree.
“Yes,” Victoria pouts. “I’m only excited. I’m happy you got out there again, Liv. I only want you to be happy. If he makes you happy, then that’s all I care about. Where did you meet him? On one of those apps you’ve been talking about?”
“Something similar.” Which isn’t a complete lie.
“What time are we meeting for brunch?” Amber changes the subject and I’m grateful.
I hate lying to them. I hate not telling them every single detail of every interaction I’ve had with my mystery guy, but they wouldn’t understand why I don’t want to know his name yet. I want to hear him say his name to me when we meet for the first time.
I want it to be the last thing I learn about him because who he is matters so much more.
“Eleven?” Vic offers. “Meet at the usual spot.”
Mimosas, one of the most popular brunch spots in the city.
“Crap, do you think we can even get a reservation? I don’t think we’ll be able to get in,” I say with hesitation. “I can call. I’ll text you guys.” I hang up the phone before they can stop me and blow out a breath, unsure if meeting with them is a good thing to do today.
All I want to do is talk to the man who’s going to make me my own personal dildo in the shape of his cock.
Because I want to watch every single second of that process.
My phone vibrates with another message from him.
Mr. Wrong Number: Did I cross a line? I’m sorry. You make me feel intense and it’s hard to hide that.
Me: No, no! Sorry about that. My friends called. And I would love to see a video of you making that mold of your cock. Please.
Mr. Wrong Number: Oh, yeah? Good. I’ll need you. I have to stay hard the entire time for the cast. Think you’re up for the challenge?
Me: I’m not the only thing that will be up for the challenge.
I snicker to myself, sending a winky face emoji. I’m pretty proud of that reply.
Mr. Wrong Number: Mmmm, I have to go to work first. Now, I can’t stop thinking about what will fall out of that pretty mouth for me. You make it very difficult to focus, you know that?
Me: *bats eyelashes* me? I’m so innocent, sir. Please, have mercy on me.
Mr. Wrong Number: The only mercy you’ll have from me is my handprint on your ass, sweetheart.
Oh. My. God.
I groan, wishing I could feel the warmth of his palm leaving a bright sting.
My phone vibrates again.
Mr. Wrong Number: Do your friends know? About us? I want to tell one of my friends too, but I wasn’t sure what the rules were here. I don’t even know your name.
Me: Let’s wait to meet before we tell each other our names.
And they know I’m seeing someone, but I didn’t say who, or how we met.
I told them I wanted to keep that to myself for now, which is true.
You’re more than welcome to tell your friends whatever you like!
And I want you to tell your friends. It makes it feel real.
If you want me to tell my friends more, I will, I just didn’t want them to lecture me about talking to a guy whose name I don’t even know.
I chew on my thumbnail, rereading the message I sent and overanalyzing the words. Maybe I shouldn’t have said the last sentence, but I was only trying to be honest. Vic and Amber can be ruthless when it comes to prying information out of me.
The last thing I want is to feel shame about who I’m dating. Well, if they make me feel ashamed, then maybe they aren’t really my friends.
No, that’s not fair. They would just be looking out for me. It’s a reasonable response to finding out someone you care about is sexting a guy and doesn’t even know his name.
“Stop overthinking everything. God!” I take a deep breath, tossing my phone on the counter.
I need to get on with my day. It’s already nine in the morning.
I need to get ready to meet the girls, including my mom.
I grin, my annoyance with myself softening when I think of my mom being in my best-friend group.
I’m lucky. There are so many women out there who don’t have the healthiest relationship with their moms. Mine is my best friend.
I wouldn’t know what to do without her. And if I’m going to tell anyone the truth about my mystery guy, she’ll be the first.
My phone dings, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Mr. Wrong Number: It’s real. This is real. I don’t want you to worry about that.
Me: I wasn’t. I meant that when I see you, I want to experience hearing your name for the first time from your lips, in person. It’s the very last detail I want to learn. Everything else makes you who you are. Not your name.
Mr. Wrong Number: I like that. I like you. I like you too much for someone I haven’t seen.
Me: To be fair, you’ve seen more of me than a lot of people have.
Mr. Wrong Number: It better stay that way too. From this moment on, your body, your mouth, your voice, your mind…it’s all mine. You’re mine.
I fan myself, a noticeable warmth spreading across my face. If I were in public right now, anyone would be able to tell what I just read.
Me: Yours? Last I checked, I am in control of my body and what I do with it.
I like this banter. I like giving him a hard time.
Mr. Wrong Number: Whatever you have to tell yourself, sweetheart, but even when you touch yourself, you’ll be thinking of me.
Me: And you think because of that, I’m yours? I don’t think you know about free will. I could go outside right now, naked, and flag down any guy I want.
I would never. I’m not that brazen or brave. And…he’s right.
I’m his.
Even if I don’t fully understand what that means when it comes down to it. I’ve never seen the man, so how would I know how I truly feel about him?
Mr. Wrong Number: You could. You won’t.
Me: Oh? Why not?
Mr. Wrong Number: Because even you already know you’re mine.