Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Callie
I get home after interviewing the second podcast guest Foster arranged for me—a sports psychologist who is also a bestselling author and well-known on the internet.
I have no idea how Foster has a connection to him, but Dr. Vaughn really went into what made him go into sport psychology in the first place.
I think any listeners who are struggling to figure out what they want to do with their lives will love it.
I decide to relax on the couch before walking over to Webber Stadium to watch the Colts game and type out a text to Foster.
Hey, thanks again for the hookup. Dr. Vaughn was amazing!
Three dots appear immediately, and I’m guessing he’s in the bullpen about now.
He had a lot of nice things to say about you too. Too many actually.
Isn’t that a good thing?
Not when I think he’s about to ask me for your number.
He’s old enough to be my dad.
Some women are into that.
Well, apparently, I’m into grumpy pitchers with tattoos who make me feel as though it’s okay to be me.
Not this one.
I bite my thumb, waiting for his response.
I wouldn’t have given out your phone number anyway.
Good luck tonight.
We should veer off this line of conversation and get back on the co-parenting track. Last night, I made the lame excuse that I can’t sleep with other people to get out of his bed. He didn’t argue, so I’m guessing he thinks we got a little carried away last night too.
A few minutes go by, so I figure our conversation is over. I should get ready to go to the game. My parents can’t come tonight, so I want to go early to help Leighton with the kids.
I have some time, want to play a game of one for one?
My stomach drops. I figure saying something snappy is better than agreeing since I’m terrified of what he might want to ask me after last night.
Shouldn’t you be warming up that arm of yours?
Just thought it might be easier for us if we do it over text.
Ignoring my question, huh?
I could screenshot your answers and share them.
You’d never do that.
He’s right. I wouldn’t. But I like that he knows that about me.
Mind if I go first?
By all means, you seem to be running this convo.
Are orgasms always hard for you, or just with me?
Man, this guy goes right for it.
Jeez, warm a woman up a little.
Does he really think I’m going to put myself out there? But I guess I did last night. And it’s the rules of the game. Otherwise, what’s the point of playing?
That’s not an answer.
Why do you want to know?
You can ask that when it’s your turn. Answer the question, Callie…
It’s never something that’s come easy, but I…
Jesus, just tell him.
…
UGH, you’re flustering me here.
It’s me. You know the guy who gave you an orgasm last night. ;)
Want a medal?
Finish your thought.
It can be more difficult for some women, and I think I’m one of them. But I’ve wondered if maybe… it’s more about the guys I pick. I think…
Help, I’m bleeding from a recently inflicted stab wound… I AM said guy, no?
You made up for it last night.
And I’ll do it again—whenever you want.
Just so I have it right… you pick shit men who only care about getting off and don’t care if you do?
Way to just lay it out there.
I guess so.
So you’ve had shit boyfriends. Tell me about one.
Hey now, it’s my turn to ask a question.
Sorry…
Why do you care? We’re done with that aspect of our relationship now.
Call it an ego thing. I kind of want to pound my fists on my chest and say I did what none of your ex-douchebags could. But I guess it’s not that hard a job. You just need someone to give a shit about you.
And as far as we’re done in that regard… I don’t feel very done.
Do you?
Do I what?
I know what he’s asking, but I need to keep us away from that topic. Still, it’s fun to flirt with Foster over text like this.
All right then. Question #2 – Did you enjoy yourself last night?
What kind of question is that? Of course I did. Did you?
Is that your question?
No… well… I guess so.
Immensely. So much so that I can’t stop thinking about it.
My stomach feels like a dryer tumbling round and round. He’s been thinking about last night all day, just like I have.
And what do you suggest we do about that?
Hey now, it’s my chance to ask a question. Didn’t anyone teach you to take turns?
I’ve never been a good sharer.
Something we have in common.
Don’t you have a game to play?
I’m a closer, so I’ve got a lot of time.
Then by all means, ask me your question.
Would you be willing to give me some lessons?
I read his question, then read it again. It makes total sense now why he’s choosing to do this over text instead of in person.
Lessons on what exactly?
Sex lessons.
I cough, and a small bit of saliva gets caught in my throat, and I cough harder, causing me to get up for some water.
Well your silence doesn’t bode well for me.
I lean over the kitchen counter and hammer out another text.
You know how to use your tongue, you just need to use it more often.
That’s just it. Right now, I’m no better than those shitheads you’ve dated in the past. I want to change, and since we both agreed to not sleep with anyone else until after the baby comes, I figure why not…
Complicate our situation even more?
Haha… we just need some rules.
This is a very bad idea.
So was you moving in with me, but—and this is me putting myself out there—I like coming home to you.
My breath catches. My heart soars, but my mind grabs it, tugging it back down. I’m breathing heavily as I stare at the phone screen and read it over and over. I like coming home to you.
Just going to leave me out here all by myself, all vulnerable? I see how it is.
My thumbs hover on the phone, but I have no idea what to type.
I like knowing you’re a bedroom away.
Shit, no. I delete that.
Thanks.
I have no idea what to say. If I tell him what I’m really thinking, it’ll only lead to trouble.
lmao… you’re welcome.
So what do you say, help a poor soul out?
I’m going on record as saying this is a horrible idea.
You said that already.
Things can go badly.
Like me, heartbroken in a hospital room and looking down at a piece of him.
It’s just sex. No emotions.
We both know that’s a lie. Or maybe not. I thought there were a lot of emotions in that bedroom last night, but maybe that was just me.
I opt to keep things light.
You sure you won’t fall in love with me?
I’ll try but no promises. ;)
I have no idea what I’m going to teach you.
And that’s the truth. All of his moves are great, spectacular really. He just needs to devote more time to warming things up at the beginning, I think.
Everything.
Again, horrible idea.
Just until the baby comes.
There’s a date when things would have to end. And I have been hornier than ever lately. And the idea of sleeping with Foster again appeals of course. He’s my catnip.
Does this mean I don’t need to buy batteries?
Hell no, I’m expecting you to be my guide with sex toys too. Want to know something…
I don’t know. Do I?
I’ve never used a sex toy on myself or on anyone else. See how bad I need you?
I shake my head, smiling.
Let’s talk rules… No sleeping in the same bed.
Never.
No relationship stuff.
Hello, remember who you’re talking to.
Anything else?
Again…
Horrible idea. I heard you the first three times. What do you say, Callie Carlisle, will you be my sex instructor?
Twist my arm why don’t you.
Perfect. I expect lesson number two tomorrow.
Tomorrow? Why not tonight? If I ask, I come off too eager though.
Just in case things go south for me in the game tonight, I don’t want to break a promise.
Yeah, whatever. That’s cool.
That wasn’t nearly as smooth as I wanted it to be.
I gotta go. I’m playing a game here. Stop pestering me.
Good luck.
:)
I drop my phone and stare at it, wanting to scroll through and read our texts over.
Did I really agree to give Foster Davis sex lessons?
When you’re crying in the hospital bed, you can point that finger right back at yourself.
But I can’t sleep with anyone else, and he’s right here.
Willing and able. And asking. This time is different.
It’s not like when I was dating other men or in a relationship with them.
I know the score going in. As long as I keep telling myself that, I’ll be able to compartmentalize and be satisfied sexually.