Page 27 of Meet Me at Midnight

ThunderStruck: Okay. Are you the type of person who goes to church every Sunday but listens to death metal music while you’re working on spreadsheets?

ElizaBeth: Excel isn’t a strength. I Google shortcuts every time I have to use it, but death metal has its moments.

ThunderStruck: When’s the last time you shared a recipe on Facebook, and what crockpot meal was it for?

ElizaBeth: LOL. Not a single time in my life, and I don’t own a crockpot. I should probably get one, tho. I hear they’re nice. Also, are these actual things our coworkers have done? Or are you pulling shit out of thin air?

ThunderStruck: I’m not at liberty to say.

ElizaBeth: Oh my God. Now I’m scared.

ThunderStruck: Have you ever left a one-star review on Amazon for a pair of toenail clippers because you didn’t feel like they cut smooth enough?

ElizaBeth: Oh, sweet Jesus. I do not want to know who this is about.

ThunderStruck: Dean Marks from Accounting.

ElizaBeth: I said I didn’t want to know!

ThunderStruck: And I said I wanted to know who you are. Maybe if you tell me now, I won’t have to tell you about Donny Lewis in Public Relations.

ElizaBeth: What if I am Donny Lewis?

ThunderStruck: Then you’re a bit of a closet freak with a balloon fetish.

ElizaBeth: BALLOON FETISH? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

ThunderStruck: Haha, I guess we can cross Donny off the list.

ElizaBeth: You’re cruel.

ThunderStruck: So are you.

ElizaBeth: Does it help if I confirm that I’m a woman?

ThunderStruck: It definitely helps me feel a little better about spending my late nights talking to you, at least.

ElizaBeth: Late nightS? As in, you’re planning on more?

ThunderStruck: I guess I’ll have to if you really won’t tell me who you are.

My stomach dances. The excited crush-holder inside me wants to keep this conversation going forever, but the emboldened woman behind the keyboard knows better. Anticipation makesthe heart grow fonder, and if I want Beau fond of me, I need to drag this out as long as possible.

ElizaBeth: Goodnight, Beau. Thanks for the nightmares.

ThunderStruck: Goodnight, Mystery Woman.

Despite my better judgment, I sent him one final message.

ElizaBeth: Goodnight but not goodbye?

ThunderStruck: There’ll be more Midnight chats. I’ll make sure of it.

His words probably shouldn’t make me feel so damn happy, but they do.Sigh.

Two nights ago, Beau messaged me on Midnight, and I haven’t stopped thinking about what our babies will look like since.

For the last forty-eight hours, I’ve checked the chat every hour on the hour, hoping for another message from him, and so far, nada.

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