Page 33 of He Saved My Boy
“I can tell you’re not competitive at all,” she teases.
“Guilty. What about you—do you have siblings?”
“Nope. I’m an only child, and my parents live in Everett.”
We talk for the next two hours, and I learn about how she fell in love with computers in middle school and has been a self-proclaimed nerd ever since.
When it creeps past midnight, she gasps. “I have to be up in five hours. I’d better get going.”
“Can I call you tomorrow?”
“You’d better. Night, Davis.” The way she says my name, flashbacks of our night in Deacon fill my mind.
“Night, T. Get some sleep.”
* * *
One week later
Teaganand I have fallen into a bit of a routine. We start our mornings with a short text exchange, and at night, we talk until she sounds sleepy, and we have to go to bed to start the day over again. Throughout the day, I find myself thinking of her, and I can’t wait until I get to talk to her again. So far, we’ve kept things light. Occasionally, we’ll get into something deeper, but we mostly just talk about our days, how Connor is doing, and some of the things four year olds get themselves into.
Apparently, his cast isn’t slowing him down. He’s dying to ride his bike—which his mom thankfully refuses. He had just learned to ride without training wheels, and it wouldn’t be in his best interest to do activities like that yet.
I’ve quickly learned she’s only a morning person out of necessity. Like me, coffee is her friend. She uses it to help her through the day, because her alarm goes off at five, so she can get Connor to daycare and herself to work on time. She mostly works from home, but occasionally has to go into the office. She sets her hours early, so she can spend more time with Connor while he’s awake in the evenings. I still don’t know what’s up with Connor’s dad, but since she’s never mentioned him, I don’t get the idea he’s been in the picture. I’m sure it’ll come up in time, but until she’s ready, I’ll let her take the lead.
As if she knows I’m thinking of her on my lunch break, a text vibrates my phone.
As soon as I swipe open my screen, I expect a simple text. Instead, there’s an image. When I click on it, my entire screen fills with a picture of a multi-colored rooster and her beautiful face. The caption reads:
Teagan: Saw this at a home goods store and thought of you.
Me: It’s beautiful—and I’m not talking about the giant cock.
Teagan: Maybe I should get it for you as a housewarming gift when you find a place of your own.
Me: Or not.
Me: Unless you mean I get you as a housewarming gift. I may be up for that suggestion.
Rereading that text, my heart stalls.
Fuck—she could read it as I want her to move in instead of the chicken.
Teagan: You’ll be up all night. If I’m not mistaken, it has magical powers and knows how to wring out Os.
If I thought I couldn’t breathe before, nothing prepares me for that message. Unfortunately, I’ve just taken a drink of water and literally spit it everywhere across the table, making everyone in the entire cafeteria look at me.
“Whoops, wrong pipe,” I announce to the room when I frantically clean up the table around me. A nice lady brings me another napkin, and I’m not sure what’s redder, my ears or the cherry tomatoes in my salad.
Teagan: Hello? Are you there?
Teagan: Where did you go?
When I get control of myself, I quickly reply.
Me: You really should give a guy some warning before talking about magical cocks. I am in no way complaining—but I was NOT PREPARED!!!
Me: If you’re worried I’ll have an inflated ego—you should know—I just humiliated myself in the cafeteria by spewing my drink everywhere.
