“Didn’t she threaten to cut off your junk last week?” I chuckle.
“Which means she loves me something fierce.” He laughs also. “Don’t waste any more time, Matthew.”
“I won’t,” I assure him. “Can’t wait to see you this weekend.”
“Same,” he says, “now I’m going to go and wine and dine my woman.”
“Never say that to me again.” I close my eyes. “Now I’m going to imagine you two having sex in the kitchen.”
He laughs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Too much, Dad,” I tell him. “I love you, goodbye.” I hang up to the sound of him laughing his head off.
Getting out of my car, I jog up the steps to my house, opening the door and kicking off my shoes before walking straight to the stairs. I take off the sweater and pants right beside the unmade bed and slip into it. I press the button to close the blackout curtains at the same time I put a one-hour timer on my phone. I put my head down on the pillow, closing my eyes, and the only thing I can think of is Sofia.
I don’t even know if I nap during the hour, all I know is the alarm rings and I reach over and grab it, turning it off. I turn on my back and open my Instagram, where I pull up Sofia’s name. It says this account is private and it’s giving me the blue button option to follow her, again. I press follow, and it lets me know that it’s been requested.
I shake my head, bringing up my call log again and pressing the phone logo right next to her name. It rings three times before she finally answers it, and truth be told, I thought she wouldn’t. “Hello,” she answers.
“Where are you?” I ask as I throw the covers off me, pressing the button for the shades so some light comes in.
“On my spaceship headed to the moon.” She shocks the fuck out of me, and all I can do is throw my head back and laugh.
“Fuck, you’re funny.” I get up, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I get dressed.
“Do you want to come to my house for dinner?” I ask, even though it’s a wasted question.
“No.” She doesn’t even skip a beat with that answer.
“Shocker.” I laugh. “Okay, I’ll come to you.”
“Ugh, why?” she questions. “There is no reason for us to have another meal together.”
“We need to talk,” I tell her, thinking about what my father said.
“We already did,” she says, her voice going soft. “We spoke twice or was it three times? Either way, we said what we had to say.”
“I thought of other things to say,” I inform her. “Are you at work? Do you want me to swing by there and pick you up?”
“If I was at work,” she starts, and I put the sweater over my head, “how would I get to work tomorrow if you picked me up?”
I walk down the stairs and chuckle. “I’d drive you to work,” I state as she groans. “Either way, I get to see you again.”
“Matthew,” she grumbles in frustration.
“Sofia,” I counter, my voice going soft, “one more dinner.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” she huffs.
“Why do you keep denying my follow request on Instagram?” I ask as I grab my keys and head out the door.
“Because there isn’t a reason to accept it. It’s for my really, really close friends.”
“How close do we have to be?” I ask, getting in my car.
“You have to know certain things about me,” she challenges.
“Go,” I tell her.
“Favorite color.”
“Blue, but not a light blue like the sky, a darker blue like navy but not so dark that it looks like black.” I smile when she doesn’t tell me I’m wrong. “Next?”
“Favorite food?” she asks, not telling me my answer was wrong.
“Depends,” I tell her. “On a lazy day you like pretty much anything your grandmother cooks. On a quiet date night, you like either steak or salmon, you can do either, sometimes both. When you are out drinking, definitely a cheeseburger with bacon, loaded. The greasier the better. You like fries, your favorite kind are crinkle cut, with ketchup.”
“You’re annoying,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Favorite person in the whole world?” she says, thinking she can trick me.
“If it isn’t your horse,” I start, “it has to be either Grandpa Billy or Grandma Charlotte.”