6. Remi
six
Remi
Lucy texted me at ten telling me we were having a girls day. No further explanation, no asking if I was free, just girls day and she was on her way. I was ready in twenty minutes.
She showed up at my door in a matching set with her hair done and her nails already perfect, looking like she’d been up since seven preparing for this. Knowing her, she probably had. I was in a hoodie and my good jeans, which for me was sufficient.
We did the nail salon on Meridian first. The woman who does Lucy’s acrylics knows her by name and had her color ready before she sat down.
Lucy got something long, white and pointed that looked incredible and I got a deep burgundy gel that I pointed at without thinking and yet immediately loved.
We sat next to each other under the UV lamps while the nail techs worked and Lucy scrolled through her phone while I stared at the ceiling and thought about nothing.
That was a lie. I was thinking about something. I just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
She wanted to go to the mall after because Lucy has a system for shopping that I’ve never fully understood but refuse to question anymore.
She goes into every store regardless of intent, touches things she has no plans to buy, and leaves with one item she didn’t know she needed.
I just follow along and hold things when she hands them to me.
We were in the third store, Lucy holding up a dress that was doing a lot with very little fabric, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at it without thinking.
“Who’s Ryan,” Lucy said.
I looked up and she was already reaching for my phone.
“How did you even,”
“I have good eyes,” She took it before I could do anything about it and read the message. “Dinner Saturday? Remi, who is he?”
“Someone I’ve been talking to.”
“For how long?”
“Week and a half.”
She stared at me like I’d personally wronged her. “A week and a half and I’m finding out now?” She was already scrolling and knowing what she’d find, I just stood there and waited for the questions. After about a minute she stopped and looked at me.
“He asked for your photo.”
“I told him it was forward but–”
“ you sent it anyway.”
But
“Yeah the one of me in bed.”
“REMI. The bed one? With the glasses and Richard’s shirt?”
“It was casual.”
“That photo is not casual and you know it. That photo is a weapon and you deployed it,” She shook her head. “He sent photos back.”
“Mhmm.”
She went quiet and I knew she’d found them.
“That man is fucking fine.”
“Ugh, I know, Lucy. He’s perfect.”
“Like.” She looked back at the screen. “Obscenely. He looks like the type of guy that has a big dick.”
“LUCY.”
“I’m just saying what we’re both thinking.” She handed my phone back and fixed me with a look. “You’re going.”
“I haven’t even texted him back yet.”
“I know. But you’re going.” She put the dress back on the rack and steered me toward the door. “Don’t pass this fine piece of ass up, Remi.”
I put my phone in my pocket and didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say because she was right. We both knew I was going.
We stayed for another hour, and she finally bought the dress. I bought a candle and lip gloss before we got smoothies from the food court on the way out. We sat at a table by the window and Lucy talked about everything except Ryan the entire time, which meant she was saving it.
By the time I got home the house was in my favorite state where everyone retreats and no one bothers me.
I showered the day off, threw on an oversized tee, and headed to my setup.
Nothing special about it, just another night streaming.
I pulled my hair into a knot, booted up my monitors, and got the overlays running.
My chat was already active when I went live, jumping on the fact that I’d been MIA for a day.
“I had a life to attend to,” I told them, queuing up a match. “Revolutionary concept. We’re moving on.”
Except they didn’t move on. They had opinions and wanted to know where I’d been and what I’d done and whether I’d touched grass. I told them the grass touching was minimal, and the nail color was burgundy and that was all they were getting.
I was three games deep and comfortably in my element when my phone buzzed on the desk.
What time should I pick you up
I stared at it forgetting I was even streaming and told the chat I’d be right back and muted my mic.
Seven
I’ll be there at seven
What kind of place is it
The kind where you should wear something nice
Everything I own is nice
Somehow, I believe that
I unmuted and finished the match. I’ll admit that I died embarrassingly in the next one because I was looking at my phone mid game and my chat clocked it immediately. I told them the killer was cheating and moved on.
Okay smartass, I could cancel.
You won’t
You don’t know that
Remi.
Just my name and yet my whole body lit up like he’d touched me. Clearly there’s something wrong with me. This man could be a killer for all I know. Who the hell gets this excited over someone they met online. The whole time I’m gonna get dolled up to go die, good god.
Fine. Seven.
Wear something that’ll make it hard for me to pay attention to the food.
I read that, set my phone face down on the desk, and told chat we were taking a break.
I just sat there like an idiot for about thirty seconds before deciding that streaming was officially over for the night and Ryan was a far better use of my time than whatever the fuck the Trapper was about to do to me.
I said goodbye to chat, closed everything down, and migrated to my bed with my phone and my charger.
Ryan texted around nine asking what I was wearing and I answered. We went back and forth before he steered it somewhere I didn't expect and suddenly we weren't talking about clothes anymore.
Why do you want to know what I’m wearing
Because I’ve been thinking about you all day and I want the full picture
What have you been thinking
Things I probably shouldn’t say before I’ve even taken you to dinner
Say them anyway
I’ve been thinking about your mouth. What it looks like when you’re focused on something or what it would look like focused on me.
My face went warm before spreading throughout my body.
Too much?
No
Good. Your turn.
My turn what
tell me something you’ve been thinking about
I looked at my ceiling for a second because I wasn’t sure if saying ‘how big your dick is’ would be pushing my luck.
I’ve been thinking about what your hands look like up close. In your photo they looked like they could do damage.
What kind of damage
Any kind you wanted to do
Three dots appeared, disappeared, and appeared again and I was sure I just blew my shot.
Saturday can’t come fast enough.
No it can’t.
I set my phone down, my show was still paused, and everything was quiet except for my heartbeat. My phone lit up one more time.
Goodnight Remi.
Goodnight Ryan.
I reached for the vibrator and fell asleep thinking about his hands doing what mine couldn't.