Unknown: Hmm…and how have you been provoked?
What an ass.
Me: Are you serious? Really?
Unknown: Looking at my last message, I would say yes, I did ask you.
Me: Now who’s being the wise-ass?
I smirk to myself.
Unknown: You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?
Presumptuous much? Wait. A handful? Who in the hell does this guy think he is?
Me: Is that some sort of insult?
I take a bite of my food and wait impatiently for him to respond.
Unknown: No. Believe me, I’m going to enjoy stuffing something in your smart mouth to keep it quiet. I’m counting on you to keep the smart-ass comments coming, so I have more reasons to keep your mouth full, while I keep my hands full.
I drop my fork to my plate with a clatter, completely floored by his comments. I don’t know if I should be pissed he would be so brazen and disrespectful, or turned on from the visual he just gave me. I may not know who this man is or what he looks like. He could be a serial killer for all I know, or a pimply faced teenager. It doesn’t matter, though. I can’t help the quiver I feel inside my stomach. I’m an idiot, and I damn sure know it.
Me: I can’t believe you just said that to me.
Unknown: I only speak the truth.
Me: You’re definitely not helping your case. Who says that to a complete stranger? And why the hell would you think I’d ever let you touch me, in any way.
Unknown: You will in good time, Poppy. And when you do, believe me, you’ll want me stuffing every part of you.
Holy hell. This man knows no bounds. He’s really starting to piss me off, making such sick and ridiculous assumptions.
Unknown: Besides, you’re no stranger to me. There’s a lot I know about you, Beautiful.
But I don’t know dick about you, asshole, but it’s something I desperately want to rectify. As frustrating and cocky as he is, I really want to know him, consequences be damned.
Me: What do you know about me?
Unknown: That will be a conversation for another day.
I give up on eating. There’s no way I can stomach food now. I set my plate on the table and down some of my water.
Me: Tell me your name.
Unknown: How about I give you another letter instead?
Seriously? Are we in middle school or something?
Me: Don’t bother. I want a name.
Unknown: E.
Me: So, what? Am I supposed to call you Mr. AE?
Unknown: Again with the smart-mouth. I have so many plans for that mouth when we meet.
I roll my eyes, but can’t keep the small smile from my face.