Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Emerson
I stare at the blank screen for a moment, a soft smile curving my lips. Catching myself, I clear my throat and navigate to Twila’s contact page in my phone. Deleting her name, I think about it for a moment, then nod as I quickly type in the word “Daisy.”
“Perfect,” I murmur, pride at my own ingenuity zipping through me.
Not only did one of my videos include the flower, but “margarita” can also mean “daisy” in Spanish. It’s a coincidence I used those two items in my videos, of course, but if the viewers make the connection, they’ll think I’m a genius.
Okay, fine. Maybe not a genius, but clever at the very least.
Twila and I should probably practice text-flirting. Besides this whole thing being fake, we don’t really know each other, so it might take a while to get into a sexy groove that’s believable. I open a thread with her and stare at the blank screen for a few beats before typing out my first message.
Me: Hey, there, Hot Stuff.
I snort at how cheesy it is, and Twila doesn’t disappoint with her reaction.
Daisy: Hot Stuff? Who is this? Danny Zuko?
A laugh bursts out of me at the Grease reference. Texting Twila is going to be fun. That’s one thing that is not fake. One of many, I’m starting to realize.
Shaking off the serious thought, I quickly text her back.
Me: That’s not a very flirty response, T.
Daisy: Sorry. Sorry. How’s this?
Daisy: Hey, Stud. How about you fire up Greased Lightning and come pick me up? We can go to Lover’s Point and make out.
I laugh again, a deep, joyous sound that echoes off my bedroom walls. Silently warning myself to keep it down so my nosy roommates don’t come snooping to find out what’s so funny, I type out a response.
Me: Better. But you don’t want people thinking you’re easy, do you? I’d only be crushing on a proper lady.
Daisy: Still stuck in the fifties, I see. Should we go to a drive-in movie, instead?
Me: Fine. Apparently, I suck at text-flirting, too. This is why I wanted to practice.
Daisy: Too? I’ll have you know I do NOT suck at text-flirting.
Me: Prove it.
There’s a bit of a pause in the rhythm of our text messages, and I wait with bated breath for Twila to respond. I know it’s not real, but the prospect of her flirting with me has my heart beating a bit faster.
When her message finally comes through, my eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
Daisy: I have a secret. Do you want me to tell you?
The words are simple, but the feelings they invoke are anything but. I have no idea why my body is reacting, but my heartbeat is pounding in my ears, and my skin tingles with anticipation. It’s ridiculous, I know, but it’s happening, nonetheless.
Me: Tell me.
Daisy: When I close my eyes, I see your smile. When everything else is silent, I hear your laughter. And when I lie in bed at night, I feel the ghost of your touch on my skin.
Holy shit. My cock goes half-hard as I read the words again, and I press a palm against it to ease the pressure.
“It’s not real. She’s playing a part. It’s fake,” I murmur as another text pops up.
Daisy: Cat got your tongue? I TOLD you I’m good at this.
I swallow against the lump in my throat.
Me: Touché.
Daisy: Ha ha ha. Okay, your turn. Sweep me off my feet, handsome.
I’m still breathing hard, and that little “handsome” at the end of her message is doing weird things to my brain. Does she really think I’m good looking? Or is that part of the act?
I’m so confused.
Shaking my head to clear it, I focus on coming up with the perfect text before I start typing.
Me: That pink lip gloss you put on in your GRWM video last week was really pretty. I couldn’t stop staring at your lips.
Maybe there’s a little too much truth in that text, but I send it anyway. I watched that “Get Ready With Me” video at least a dozen consecutive times, my eyes drawn to her lush lips as she smoothed on the shiny, pink gloss.
It’s like I was hypnotized, or something.
Daisy: *clears throat* Okay, Stud. That was better.
She thinks my words were part of our act. Good.
Me: *takes a bow*
Daisy: Don’t get too cocky, now. You’ve got a long way to go.
Me: By all means, teach me, oh wise one.
Daisy: I think I prefer the title of “Mistress.”
Me: Kinky. I like it.
Daisy: God, I was kidding, pervert.
Me: Yes, Mistress.
Daisy: Stop.
Me: Of course, Mistress.
Daisy: Oh, my God.
Me: Okay, okay. I’m done. I promise.
Daisy: I like your eyes. They’re so beautiful.
My body reacts again, and this time there’s no stopping it. All jokes fly from my head as I slowly type out a reply. A true one.
Me: I like your eyes, too. The color reminds me of the blueish green waters off the coast of Turks & Caicos.
There’s another pause after I send that, and I pray I haven’t taken it too far. If she sees the truth in my “flirting,” she may get spooked and call this whole thing off. I breathe a sigh of relief when her reply finally comes through.
Daisy: You’ve been to Turks & Caicos?
Yes. This is much safer.
Me: I used to work in marketing, and the company sent us there for a retreat a few years ago. It was a week full of silly team-bonding exercises, but the view was spectacular.
Daisy: I’m so jealous! I’ve always wanted to go there.
Me: Maybe we’ll go together one day.
Daisy: Maybe…
Daisy: So, what happened with the marketing job?
Me: I got laid off. My videos started taking off around that time, and I was able to do something fun for a living. I just kind of rolled with it.
Daisy: You mean marketing isn’t fun?
Me: Yeah, no. Not so much.
Daisy: Well, I’m glad you found something you enjoy.
Me: Same to you. And that’s why we’re doing this, right? To ensure we can both keep doing what we love?
It’s a reminder for me, not her. But she doesn’t need to know that.
Daisy: Of course. Back to flirting practice.
Daisy: I’d love to share a pitcher of margaritas with you, someday.
Yeah. You and me both, Daisy. You and me, both.
Me: We will.
Daisy: Can you see the future, now?
Me: I can see a future with you in it.
I cough as my throat clogs. We’re pretending. Playing a part.
And I need to make sure I never forget that.