CHAPTER 16
Sybil I mean that in a good way. They were the thinkers. In contrast, men thought with their dicks, even me. Men liked visual stimulation; women liked more foreplay.
I hated to admit how disgustingly primal men could be. This book? I was loving the sexual banter. It was art. I was afraid to admit I might have found a new favorite genre.
I picked my phone up again, wanting to share my new reading content with Sybil.
Me: I started The Mountain Man series.
Sybil: Oh, did you? And what do you think?
Me: It’s educational. I had no idea books could be this detailed and graphic!
Sybil: Lol.
Me: This was a five-pepper book, right?
Sybil: Yes. It’s going to be extra. Brace yourself.
Me: Consider me braced.
Sybil: Haha. It’s pretty hard to read two of those books in a row. I tend to take a break. It can get overwhelming.
Me: Pretty hard, huh? ?? How hard?
Sybil: I’m glowering at you.
I tried not to think of what Sybil looked like overwhelmed in this way, especially in the throes of ecstasy. Did these books make her blush, or were they so common that this was just part of the story to her?
Sybil: That series makes me wish I knew how to ride a horse and lived in the country.
Me: Is that a euphemism? Or do we mean ride an actual horse?
Sybil: Nash!
Me: ??
Sybil: I recommend one smut book, and already your mind is dirty.
Me: It’s not the book. I came this way.
Sybil: Lol.
Me: I’d buy you a horse.
Sybil: You would, would you?
Me: I wouldn’t be able to deny you anything.
I was increasing my boldness every night. I wanted to see how far she would take the banter. Besides, it was fun. Our jokes were natural and seemed to flow well with the conversation.
Sybil: And the entire farm? Even the ducks?
Me: The best damn ducks you’ve ever seen. Ducks and Fucks.
Sybil: OMG! LOL!
I’d give anything to hear her laugh in real life, and not just three letters on the screen.
I needed her to agree to an in-person meeting.
It’d been a month or more since our first run in.
Honestly, I was a little nervous about it, especially the longer I waited.
I’d need the perfect reason to break that seal.
I could see her sipping from a tumbler through the window, and I sipped from mine. Our evenings had settled into a comfortable routine of reading together. Of course, she had no idea we were doing it.
I’d spent more nights than I cared to count dozing in my oversized office chair. It was comfortable, I’ll give it that. It reclined, molding perfectly to my shape. Plus, I didn’t want to go to my cold, lonely bed, not when I could fall asleep watching her.
I noticed she wasn’t much for sleeping in her own bed, either; she often dozed on the couch. It seemed to be her current favorite place. It got great sunlight throughout the day, and both the dog and cat enjoyed it. I hated to imagine what I’d do if she suddenly picked a new spot.
My mother did that kind of thing. She’d create new little nooks and cozy corners, often rearranging the furniture. I think it helped her feel refreshed in a familiar environment.
Me: I’ll be your Montana Man.
- SYBIL -
I laughed a third time at Nash’s tease. Bill lifted his head from the couch where he was lying. He wasn’t used to hearing me laugh this much, if at all.
Me: Book men don’t exist in the real world. They’re too good to be true.
Nash: Oh, they exist. I mean, the guy is 100% me.
I laughed again, rolling onto my side. I loved that he not only asked for a book recommendation, but was actually reading it. The Montana Man series was the same book Cat got an eyeful of. It was a lot.
I suggested it because the male character was confident in his masculinity.
I wanted to see how Nash would react to that.
The hero understood how to treat a woman well without feeling like he was compromising himself or his manhood to do so.
A man becomes more manly the better he treats the women in his life—that was my opinion at least.
Nash: You don’t think I can be the Montana Man? First of all, I bring you coffee every day. This Montana guy does that. Check.
Nash: He feeds her. Check.
Nash: He takes care of and protects her horses, and all her ‘ducks’. Check.
Nash: I do (almost) all those things. I’m winning here.
Me: LOL!
I couldn’t stop the laughter that kept bubbling up, my mouth aching with how much I’d smiled. Every time we chatted for hours like this, I wished I could hear his voice. There were so few occasions when I’d heard him speak.
Calling him was becoming an increasingly enticing urge. But every time my finger hovered over the button, I chickened out. It had to be the perfect moment, the perfect reason. But I wasn’t ready to stir things up.
Nash: He sure takes care of those ‘ducks’ though.
Me: Oh yes, he does. ??
Me: I doubt real men are so thorough.
Nash: And you know this how?
- NASH -
With a groan of longing, I slumped back into my leather armchair, my head hitting the cushion. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it. I picked the book back up and continued reading a steamy passage. It only made things worse.
This book was more alluring than anything I’d ever experienced on a TV screen. If this is what Sybil read, I wondered what she’d be like in bed. I was taking notes for sure.
I dropped the book again, unable to let it go.
Me: Have you ever been on a date?
There was a long pause. Dots kept popping up on the screen, then disappearing again. I suspected she hadn’t, not if she was so introverted.
Sybil: I had a boyfriend once, in middle school. But I was 14. I hardly count that as an actual date. I kissed him, though. It was awful. He was not The Montana Man.
I laughed.
Me: 14-year-old boys don’t count.
Sybil: It was a weird phase I was in, too. Pretty sure I was acting out and being rebellious. I didn’t even like him.
Me: What about in high school?
Sybil: I was home-schooled after that. It’s a long story.
Me: So you’re saying you’ve never been “Montana Manned”?
Sybil: Nash! I’m not answering that.
Me: So you haven’t.
Sybil: Not answering.
Me: Would you ever be willing to drink coffee with me?
Me: I could just sit on your stoop. We can talk over the camera if that makes you feel better?
Sybil: Lol.
Sybil: Maybe.
I smiled at that but left it there. This was good progress. We’d finally broached the subject, and that was good enough for me.
I began reading again, glancing over at Sybil now and then, feeling as though she was already mine to care for and love. Now, it was just a matter of getting her in front of me, then I’d show her all the perfect ‘ducks’ I’d be willing to give her.