Page 75 of PS: I Hate You

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Page 75 of PS: I Hate You

Sender:Dominic Perry

Subject:Phone Number

Maddie,

Give me your phone number.

Sincerely,

Dom

Sender:Maddie Sanderson

Subject:RE: Phone Number

New phone. Who dis?

I never claimed to be mature.

In fact, I am often extremely immature for my age. However, I also have a full-time job, pay all my bills on time, and schedule regular dentist appointments. So, I think that balances out my childish response to Dom. Especially after I attacked his face at the airport yesterday, despite him already rejecting my advances twice.

“I’m just going for the trifecta,” I mutter as I pace around my condo while a comfort grilled cheese sandwich browns in the cast iron. “Can you even say you fucked up if you haven’t done it three times in three different ways in three different states?”

My email pings again.

Sender:Dominic Perry

Subject:RE: RE: Phone Number

Maddie,

This is the man you are going to spend multiple days in a car with and who would like your phone number for emergency reasons.

Sincerely,

Just Give Me Your Goddamn Number Already

Two messages and no mention of the kiss. That’s got to be good, right? Maybe he convinced himself it was an accident. I was in a hurry to board the plane and his mouth got in the way. Or we could blame alcohol. The gin made me do it!

To appease Dom, I could give him my phone number.

OrI could continue to evade his attempts to have a direct connection to me.

Email is safer. It’s a boundary I need.

Sender:Maddie Sanderson

Subject:RE: RE: RE: Phone Number

What kind of emergencies? Are you planning on forgetting me at a rest stop? Because I think I could entertain myself withsnacks and nudey mags until you realized your error and turned around.

Sincerely,

I Don’t Give Scrubs My Number

Besides, I already have his digits saved in my contacts from that first email he sent. If some terrible—unlikely—emergency arises, I can call him. Until then, emails will have to suffice.

I need to maintain a sense of separation. Getting close to the man scrambles my common sense. Every time I decide I have the maturity to be around him, my hormones and needy emotions get in the way. Some overly romantic corner of my brain decides the best way to interact with Dom is a passionate embrace.




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