“Thanks. Can you just put these on my tab?”
“Name?”
“Mateo Rojas.”
She taps a few buttons on the screen before nodding. “You got it.”
My phone vibrates in my hand as I walk back to our table, a swirl tickling my gut with anticipation. As soon as I set the drinks down, I unlock the phone, disappointment clouding my mind when I see the text is, in fact, not from Travis, but my sister.
Ally: Can you come over tomorrow and help me build a bookshelf?
I roll my eyes before typing out a response.
Me: Why can’t Scottie help?
Ally: He’s out of town this weekend with his cousins. Besides, I can build shit without my fiancé helping me, Matty. I’m a strong, independent woman.
Me: Yeah? Then why are you asking me if you’re so strong and independent?
She sends me three eye rolling emojis, and a laugh escapes me because I can see the exact expression on her face right now.
Me: Fine. What time?
Ally: Yay, thank you! How’s ten?
Me: Damn, why so fucking early?
Ally: Because I want to get it done, and I have plans in the afternoon.
Me: You owe me.
I switch back to my message with Travis, annoyed to still find no response. What could he possibly be doing on a Friday night that he’s too busy to reply to me? And more importantly, why wouldn’t he want to take me up on my offer for a repeat?
We’re two people who found great pleasure in the other’s bodies… why not take advantage of that? Who fucking cares that I fucked his boyfriend. It wasn’t on purpose.
Not that he knows that.
But that’s beside the point.
Pissed off, I lock the phone, setting it face down as I bring my attention back to Miguel and Doran. They’re talking about some club Doran and his husband went to in Amsterdam. We end up getting a couple of rounds of tequila shots and a few more beers as the night progresses.
At close to midnight, I’m feeling tipsy and horny, so I excuse myself to the bathroom. I still have no fucking response from Travis, but that’s about to change if I have any say in the matter. I’m done with his silence. The stalls are all empty when I step inside. I take the one farthest from the door, locking it before pulling out my phone.
With my free hand, I slide the zipper down, flicking open the button to my jeans. My dick’s already half-hard by the time I pull it out, fully stiffening after a few tugs. Opening the camera app, I snap a picture of my cock at a nice angle, attaching it to my text thread with Travis.
Not bothering to add a caption, I hit send before taking a quick leak. By the time I wash and dry my hands, I have a response.
Bingo.
Travis: Does that work for you often?
Me: It did this time.
Travis: No, it didn’t.
Me: It got you to respond to me, cariño. Seems like a win to me.
Travis: Don’t you have a relationship to destroy?
