Page 32 of Whiskey Splash

Esme:Giving my yoga schedule to strangers are we?

A moment later she texts back.

Arie:I gave him your entire schedule. Plus, your work hours, and phone number, and Social Security. Don’t be startled if he shows up outside your house and throws rocks at your window. I said you’re into romantic shit like that.

Esme:I’ll be sure to not call the police.

Arie:Well, if you’re into handcuffs…

Esme:Very funny.

Arie:So…did he ask you out?

Esme:Kinda.

Arie:There’s no “it’s complicated” option here. This is black and white. He did or he did not. Slipping the tip in still counts as penetration.

Esme:Thanks for the clarification. And yes, he asked me out.

Arie:Duh.

Esme:He also gave me his room number.

Arie:*eggplant emoji*

Esme:Klassy. Real klassy.

Arie:Hold on. Why are you texting me right now and not twerking on Desmond Pike’s cock like it’s your own personal bouncy house?

Esme:Cause, I’m a lady.

Arie:He didn’t give you his room number because he wants a lady.

Esme:I can’t change my nature.

Arie:For one night you can.

Esme:I’m a chicken.

Arie:Well, at least you’re being honest now.

Esme:I don’t know this world, Arie. I don’t know how to do these sorts of things.

Arie:The penis goes in the vagina.

Esme:Oh! Is that the secret? Wow! After all these years, mystery solved.

Arie:Do you like him or do you just want to fuck him?

Esme:I don’t know.

Arie:Booty call = I want to fuck. Date = Let’s see if there’s more to this … before we fuck. If he gave you both options, he’s letting you decide what you want.

Esme:He’s a movie star. The only option is he goes back to the mainland and adds me to a list of people whose names he’ll forget.

Arie:Then be unforgettable.

Esme:Easier said than done.

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