“Did you have anything to do with this?” I questioned Kathryn on the way back to my office as I all but shoved the number on my palm in front of her face.

“I neither confirm nor deny that I had anything to do with it...directly.” She replied airily.

I let out a sharp breath of air through my nose. But, once I sat back down at my desk, I stared at the numbers on my palm. Without giving it much thought, I reached for one of my business cards and jotted the number down on the back of it.

:::

What remained of the work day was spent trying to be productive with small tasks. The staff meetings on Tuesdays always took up a chunk of time that could have been spent on bigger projects. After work, I spent a little time at the gym. I staggered my days, and only exercised for the sake of health, not for definition. When I got back to my humble house, I ate a light dinner, tried not to remain under the warm spray of the shower for too long, and tugged on a pair of comfortable pajama shorts before deciding on which series to continue reading.

I had to admit that my parents were the creative sort, the ones that put their own spin on the fairy tales they told us before bedtime. When I turned ten years old, I took to reading at night, allowing my younger siblings the privilege of our parents’ tale spins. I didn’t mind, as I had already memorized the tales by heart.

With the chosen book at hand, I began setting out the clothes for the next day. As I laid out the pants, I was reminded of the card with Liam’s number on it. The other man clearly enjoyed torturing me so much that he wanted to extend that torture for his own amusement. And yet, I was curious.

I drummed my fingers on top of the cover of the book in my hands for a moment before walking over to my bedside table and picking up my cell phone. I saved Liam’s number under the Contact name ‘Irritant’ and paused when I reached the text box.

Irritant 8:30PM

If this is really Liam the Irritant, then you’re taking up my valuable reading time. >

< Seth? Hold on, let me save you under my Contacts.

That was the fastest response I’ve ever received. A part of me is already concerned. What did you save my name as? >

< I was worried wouldn’t even contact me. As for the Contact name, maybe you’ll see it for yourself one day? ; )

I wouldn’t count on that. >

< So cold. : ( But, you’re not getting rid of me that easily! Tell me, do you wear boxers to bed?

You do know that if either of us dies in a suspicious manner, some poor soul will have to read all of this, don’t you? >

< All the more reason to give them something interesting to read about!

I paused, unsure of how to respond to that. However, Liam quickly sent another message.

< If I solemnly swear not to tell/show another living person any of our conversations, will you appease my curiosity?

…fine. No, I don’t wear boxers to bed. I wear pajama bottoms. >

< Sounds sensible. I prefer not to wear anything at all.

You are a shameless one. >

< Sensible and Shameless are starting to sound like the perfect Contact names for the both of us. If I rename yours ‘Sensible’ would you change mine to ‘Shameless?’

…perhaps. >

< LMAO. I tell ya, if the people at work could only see your sense of humor…

I can only imagine what they think of me, but I don’t really care. >

< Yeah? Well, it’s quite the privilege for me to be one of the few that see glimpses of the real you.

I felt my heart skip a beat. No, absolutely not. I refused to acknowledge such a thing. Liam was surely teasing, as always.

What makes you think that you see glimpses of the real me in the first place? Are you sure you’re not just delusional? >

< Delusional? I might be. But, I want to continue to be, if it gets me any closer to you.

Another pause. I couldn’t even begin to figure out how to respond to that. Luckily, I didn’t have to.

< I really am serious, you know? I always have been. The reason I keep running off on you is not just because I know you’ll attack me if I keep still long enough.

It’s not? >

< No. I’m more worried that I’d end up doing something that’d scare you…that I’d go too far. I mean, you barely even allowed me to write my number down on your hand.

Liam…what do you want from me? Why are you going through all this trouble? >

< I thought it’d be obvious by now. I want you to go out on a date with me…no, more like five dates, at the very least!

Five…are you out of your mind? Five dates? With me? Are you sure about this? >

< Oh, I’m definitely sure. Allow me five dates this month, and if you still don’t want anything to do with me afterward, then I’ll respect your decision.

My mind began to race. All of it seemed too good to be true, too ideal. I would finally be rid of the irritant that was Liam? The teasing and aggravation would finally stop?

Do you really mean it? You would leave me alone if it’s what I ask of you after five dates? >

< I swear it. I’ll respect your decision if you give me this chance.

…alright, then. What day do you have in mind for the first date? >

< I must be dreaming. You’re off Fridays too, right? How about starting with lunch this Friday? 12:30PM?

Sounds reasonable. Where? >

< There’s a restaurant/lounge called Longitudes that’s about 10 minutes away from our work building. They serve a delicious grilled portabella burger.

That portabella burger’s amazing. I went there with Kathryn and my old boss once. Never took you for a veggie burger kind of guy. >

< I’m not. But, I’ve seen you eat them during our lunch break.

Tch. Didn’t realize you were that much of a stalker. Should I regret my decision? >

< Are you going back on your word already? You promised me five dates.

*sigh* I did, didn’t I? Guess we’ll have to wait and see how they turn out. >

< Whew. You had me going there for a second. Hard to tell when you’re playing or not, which is all the more reason I want to get to know you better.

Be careful what you wish for. Is it really 9 PM already? My bedtime book awaits, as does sleep. So, good night. >

< It certainly is a good night now! See you tomorrow at work. : )

I closed out of the message and set my alarm before setting the phone back down on my bedside table. I opened the book on my lap and refused to acknowledge the butterflies in my stomach. But, after five minutes of trying to concentrate on the same paragraph, I let out a sigh and set the bookmark back in place. After putting the book away, I laid down and grabbed my phone, unlocking it so that I could read the messages once again. As an afterthought, I went back into my contacts and changed ‘Irritant’ to ‘Shameless’ before setting the phone back down, turning off the lamp, and going to sleep.