“Hey. It’s fine. You figure things out. There’s no deadline.”
But she glances at my phone and Mila’s picture.
And maybe she thinks there is one.
I text Mila back.
Me: Love it.
Mila: We’re heading into town later, but tonight should be free. Anything else you want to teach me?
That sets me on fire. I shift uncomfortably in the deck chair. Maybe I need to take this one inside, away from Arya.
I quickly tap out a line.
So many things.
Time to flee. I hurry inside, feeling the buzz of another message.
I leave my cup in the sink and race up the stairs like a teen boy trying to get away from prying eyes.
Mila: I’m starting to understand the whole hot for teacher business.
I lie across my rumpled bed. I can picture her tangled in the sheets.
Me: Should I procure glasses and a tie?
Mila: As long as there’s nothing else.
She’s killing me.
Me: And you in a tiny plaid skirt, thin white shirt, no bra?
Mila: This is hot.
Me: You’re hot.
Dots appear, then disappear.
I can sense her hesitation. She’s unsure of herself. How many times has she said she’s never anyone’s choice?
Me: I will choose you every time. In jeans. In a Castle Hotel-issue vest. In a sexy nun costume.
That gets her. The text comes quickly.
Mila. A NUN????
Me: Wrong kink?
Mila: Kink is fun. Except when you’re handcuffed to a wall and hotel staff has to rescue you.
Me: Welcome to the industry.
Mila: I want to hear all the stories.
She must be away from the others for such a long text conversation.
Me: I’ll tell you more tonight. Show you a few.