Page 108 of Hit Me With Your Best Shot

On anything.

Work?

Forget about it. What are students? What is a lecture? What’s a syllabus?

Mid-term?

Pfft.

I’m supposed to be finalizing grades, putting together review materials, but my brain is somewhere else entirely. Correction: my brain is somewhere else entirely because of Gio.

The man has taken up permanent residence in my head, living rent-free, making a mess of my carefully organized thoughts.

And the worst part? I don’t care!

I like it.

Love it.

Want some more of it…

I stare absentmindedly out my office window at the quad, where students lounge in the grassy knoll, some of them studying but most of them on their phones.

I tap a pen.

Fiddle with a fidget ball.

My laptop screen mocks me, a half-finished email to a faculty advisor sitting there, waiting for me to remember how to function like a professional! I AM A PROFESSIONAL, DAMMIT!

My phone buzzes on the desk beside me, and I glance at it, my heart doing a ridiculous little flip when I see Gio’s name on the screen. It’s a text. Simple, straightforward, and entirely him.

Gio: Miss me?

Of course I miss him.

He knows it, too.

And the fact that he’s texting me in the middle of the day just to see how my day is? Yeah, that’s not helping my ability to be productive and get shit done.

Me: Not at all. WHO are you again?

His reply comes almost immediately.

Gio: I see how it is. Guess I’ll have to take my lap dances elsewhere.

Me: We all know where those lap dances lead…

His response is a little slower this time, and I wonder if maybe he’s finally run out of ways to torment me.

Gio: Stop it. We’re both at work and I can’t afford a boner rn. How would I explain this to the trainer?

I snort, covering my mouth to stifle the laugh that bursts out, fingers hovering over the keyboard, trying to think of something clever to fire back.

Me: Sounds like a you problem, not a me problem. Maybe don’t text me next time you’re supposed to be working.

His reply comes faster this time, almost as if he’s been waiting for me to call him out.

Or in a rush.

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