Page 32 of Texting My Valentine

If Tori isn’t looking for love, what does she want? Just mindless fun? If I can’t give her that, will she get it from somebody else? Wild, hot jealousy pumps through me.

“When you talk again, maybe tone it back a bit. If you like her, you don’t want to scare her off.”

“I don’t want to mess around, either.”

“Messing around is half the fun. She’s younger than you, too.”

As if I hadn’t noticed that. Her youth was apparent when she backed off from the kiss, her eyes wide, gorgeous, innocent. She was looking at me like she’d never even kissed anyone before. A fucked-up part of me liked that.

Nobody else gets to claim her—just me.

Claimher. What am I even thinking?

“You’re right,” I admit reluctantly, letting my pedaling come to a stop. “I need to chill. Going forward, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll be the most casual man you can imagine. Slippers, a Sunday paper, and a mug of milky weak coffee, that’s me. I’m the man who takes a woman on a date a week for three months only to let it fizzle out.”

“That’s more like it,” Julian says. “Welcome to the twenty-first century way of doing things.”

We chat some more, and then I shower and check on Elliot. He’s sleeping on his side, breathing softly. In the dark, he looks just like Robin did at the same age.

As I try to sleep, I think about what Julian said. Maybe I don’t want to be part of the twenty-first century. Tori called herself an old soul. We match.

I’m drifting off when my phone buzzes.

Tori:Hey, Alex. Sorry for the late reply. I’ve been at the bar all day. I had to double as a waitress because one of the other waitresses called in sick. Anyway, I don’t mean to bore you. How was your day? If you’re asleep, I’ll catch your reply tomorrow. Peace.

The message seems designed to be almost artfully casual. She wants to put the forwardness of last night behind us. I can’t blame her for that. Sharing everything about Robin, Lena, and Elliot came so naturally.

If I were being modern, I wouldn’t reply until the morning. I’d get involved in the texting games, not letting my eagerness show.

Fuck that.

Alex:Don’t try to pretend we can be casual, Tori. All I’ve been thinking about is that kiss and taking it further. The memory of your hips…

I delete the message before I can send it. Julian’s right—I need to chill out big time.

Alex:You don’t have to apologize. I’ve been working all day, too. How was work? Did that asshole show his face again?

Tori:Work was… work. LOL (that’s right, I’m still going to use this even if you insist on being a dork and typing it out). I had a side project to keep me busy. If you ask me nicely, I might even tell you what it was about.

I grin.

Alex:If I was there, I’m sure I could make you tell me.

Tori:Oh, really… How would you do that?

Alex:You got a small preview of it last night. I almost got carried away, remember?

Tori:How could I forget?I almost lost the ability to think, too. That’s why I had to run away so quickly.

Alex:I thought maybe the big bad surgeon had scared you. Maybe I’d turned into a horror movie villain in your eyes.

Tori:Hahahaha. What, like you were going to dissect me or something?

I chuckle, sitting up, wishing she was here… but also not. The simplicity of texting allows me to keep my hunger at bay. For now, at least.

Alex:Go on then, Tori. Tell me about your side project.

Tori:Nuh-uh. How is that asking nicely?

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