The caption: Can’t sleep.
Oh, lovely, neither can I.
Is she thinking of me? Is that why? Instagram is challenging me to message her. While I understand it gives everyone the opportunity to comment, I truly feel it’s speaking to me.
Am I about to slide into Posey’s DMs?
I sure as fuck am.
I sit up and type quickly.
Me: Me neither.
The app tells me she’s seen it, and then those glorious dots appear.
Posey: This is not good, Hoenes. We have to be on our game tomorrow.
Me: We’ll be fine.
Posey: We’re playing the Wild. I’m nervous. Their PK is insane.
Me: I believe in us.
Posey: I hope you’re right.
Me: I usually am.
Posey: Hardly.
When she sends me a winky face emoji, I draw in a deep breath.
Me: Why can’t you sleep?
Posey: ??? No clue. You?
Me: My mind is moving a mile a minute.
Posey: Me too. Sucks.
Me: Yeah.
Posey: I’m starving too. I’m eating celery and peanut butter. It’s depressing.
Me: Ew. Who eats that?
Posey: My mom and her no-carb self.
Me: LOL. Go buy some cookies.
Posey: I wish. I really need to try to sleep.
Posey: I’ve been saying that for the last two hours, though.
Me: I’ve got cookies.
Posey: Rude. Don’t tease me.
Oh. Oh fuck, I want to tease her.
With my teeth.
Me: You can come here.
Posey: ??? Why? If I’m gonna go out, I can get cookies myself and not eat yours.
At this point, why doesn’t she just kick me in the balls too?
No. Be direct, Hoenes.
Me: We could hang. And eat the cookies.
Posey: We could hang?
Me: Yeah.
Posey: Is that a good idea? I mean, what would we do?
Me: I think it’s a fantastic idea because I can come up with a lot of things for us to do.
She sends me the wide-eyed emoji, and I can’t help but grin.
Posey: Just so we’re clear, are you sliding into my DMs to hit on me?
Me: Pathetically, yes.
Posey: I’m shocked.
Me: Why?
Posey: I never thought you’d go about it this way. I thought you’d do it at the bar.
Me: I did, and you blew me off. So here I am, offering carbs and a damn good time.
Posey: Wait, are you drunk?
Me: A little.
She sends the eye-rolling emoji.
Posey: So that’s why you’re doing this?
Me: It may have given me liquid courage, but I wanted to do it at the bar.
Another eye-rolling emoji.
Posey: We have a game tomorrow.
Me: Are you blowing me off again?
Posey: If it makes it any better, I don’t want to.
Me: Then don’t.
Posey: I’ll see you tomorrow morning, but I’m unsure about this.
Posey: It could make things weird.
Me: Or it could be pretty fucking great.
Posey: Sober up, Hoenes. We have a game tomorrow.
I groan loudly and throw my phone across the bed.
Well, if I was worried about making things awkward, I don’t have to worry anymore.
Because I just did.
* * *
I drank way too much last night.
The venti black coffee I got at Starbucks is helping, but I’m not looking forward to morning skate. Beside me, Wes hasn’t stopped laughing.
“You didn’t.”
I groan. “Please stop talking.”
“I cannot believe you slid in there and said that. She probably thinks you wanted a booty call.”
“Great, because I was so excited to see her already,” I say dryly.
He snorts. “I can’t believe you did that. Did you even think first? That’s so damn pathetic.”
I groan even louder. “Please, don’t consider my feelings.” He just laughs. “I wasn’t thinking. I wanted her. God, I fucking want her. I love the way she laughs—you should have seen her last night. And, dude, for real, things were going really great. I felt good about it. I really thought we would take it back to my place, but she blew me off.”
He looks over at me when we stop at a red light. “Maybe, just maybe, she isn’t the kind of girl to go home with a dude after the first date.”
“She said it wasn’t a date.”
He squints at me. “Jesus, do you even know how to land a woman?”
“Fuck you,” I sneer. “I was drunk, horny, and really frustrated. I just wanted her, so I slid in there, and now I’m unsure how to face her.”
Wes grins. “I’m praying she calls you out or laughs in your face. This is classic.”
“I hate you,” I say, but he just laughs. “Is it really as bad as I think it is?”
Wes whips his head toward me, grinning from ear to ear. “You hit on our coach after lusting over her for over a week, and she turns you down. So you hit on her in DM while you were trashed. Yes, this is as bad as you think, and I think it’s awesome.” He guffaws. “It’s like a really bad Netflix rom-com. So damn funny.”
“I’m so glad my life is a comedy for you,” I deadpan, but then I groan. I really don’t want to face her. She will probably laugh at me. God, pretty girls make me stupid.