Lexi Cocker - Faleena Hopkins Page 0,54
them.
The texts initial infrequency only increased my giddiness. Suspense can have that skill when it’s done right.
Then, after about two weeks, I received good-morning texts four days in a row.
One day missed.
Then five or six consecutively.
Then one not missed.
It arrived at lunchtime.
“Hey Cherry. How’s your day at work?”
I replied when I saw them. I didn’t do any dumb waiting-to-text back, but I did stop texting when he did, strictly replying to his messages.
I’m aware men are hunters. It’s in their lizard brains from way back in caveman days, and I like a little growling and grunting from my guy.
Some girls don’t.
I’m not them.
It’s not hard to do. I hate the feeling of waiting for a text that doesn’t come because I’ve stretched a conversation longer than it’s natural lifespan.
I did that with Brad way too often when he really pissed me off. I’d keep texting and he’d ghost me. It was a living nightmare waiting for texts he withheld to control me. That type of suspense can fuck right off. Have a conversation with a girl for cryin’ out loud! Face the fire and deal with it. Or leave!
Heading for our single shower to get ready for a relaxing morning at church, I yell to my girls, “I won’t hog the hot water!”
“I took one already! And Zoe is meeting us there.”
I yelp, “What?” and pad my curiosity into our kitchen to demand, “Tell me everything!”
Sam closes the fridge, a jug of almond milk in her hand. “Its very sordid!”
“Yes! I can’t wait!”
Pouring into our blender for a breakfast smoothie she’ll give me half of, my sister turns her back to me, then from over her shoulder we lock eyes. “She slept at Aunt Meagan’s and Uncle Jeremy’s.”
“You mean her parents?!!!”
Sammy grins. “Mmhmm.”
I flip around. “You suck!”
“You’re too easy!”
“That’s what all my exes say!”
Her laughter makes me know I won. And that’s all that matters. It’s like Wyatt argued - I’m the older sibling. We’re supposed to win.
How else can we set a great example?
Chapter Thirty
LEXI
On Wednesday afternoon when I grab my tote bag to leave work, uncharacteristically dressed for a yoga class I thought might help, I confess to Paige, “It didn’t work! I was hoping meditation and some Zen stuff would get rid of this nagging feeling in my gut, but it didn’t!”
“What’s wrong?”
Pausing by the door, my head droops. “I don’t like that it’s only been a few days and yet I’m this bothered that I haven’t heard from Gage. I can’t stop thinking something is wrong!”
"When did you last speak with him?"
"When he dropped me off after the BBQ."
“How did you leave it?”
“Fine! We were fine. I gave him a kiss and, sure, he was quiet on the ride home, but who wouldn’t be?”
She frowns, "Huh," sipping her tea and blanching, “Cold,” before setting it back on her newly organized desk. “Did you give more thought to what we were talking about?”
“About what I want to do?” Dropping the tote on hardwood flooring with a depressed thump, I lean my spandex-covered butt on her teal wall, pretending to bang my head on it. Which I would do if my cousin, Eric's, football career hadn't made me aware of concussions. “I don’t know, Paige! I just don’t know!”
“There’s no rush. It was on my mind ever since I saw you at the BBQ, that’s all.”
“Don’t know what that’s like.”
My sarcasm earns a sad smile. “There’s no rush! I didn't mean to add more stress to your day. That’s the opposite of what I do.”
I chuckle, because yes, the yoga lady isn’t supposed to freak you out, but my laugh becomes a groan and more fake-head-banging. “Why do some people know what they should do with their lives and others are like me?”
She sighs, "I don't know," toe rings winking as her bare feet wiggle it out. “I meant what I said though. I’ve been thinking about it. I’m so happy you’ve brought Om This into the black, and I would hate to lose you, but I don’t think you were meant to be an assitant.”
“I’m more your accountant and marketing ideas person, than assistant.”
“And you’re very good. But…”
“I’m more the in-charge type.”
“Yes.”
More head banging, and a final sighed, "I dunno. I guess it will come to me.” Retrieving my tote, I grumble, “And I wish a certain mechanic would come to me, too.”
“I thought you didn’t know what he did for a living?”
I blink, confused. “What? I never said I didn’t know. Of course I know.”
Paige reminds