Fierce

Chapter 17

                 

The texts came and went continuously throughout the week. The exchanges were small and funny, light and sweet...but never anything more than mildly flirty. Nothing overly suggestive, or inappropriate. He was being the perfect gentleman and she hated it. It made her wonder if this aloofness indicated that he wasn't as interested as she thought. Maybe this was a standard thing. Maybe he was doing this with other women too; keeping them tuned for a rotation type scenario, making sure to keep her as an easy lay. A bevvy of bitches, if you will.

Or maybe he just had no interest in her after she threw up all over him.

Ugh.

She leant forward, and rested her head against the work desk in front of her; unaware of Charly standing in the door, smiling.

Charlotte couldn't help smiling – even though clearly her friend was slowly going out of her mind. George acting like a teenager made her want to break out the camera and popcorn. She didn't want to say anything in case she freaked George out (she was totally skittish), but wow. This could totally be something meaningful... and she hoped fervently that it would work. Her tummy fluttered with excitement for her friend; she liked Lincoln, and he'd be so good for George. So, so good.

She walked into Georgie's office and sat down carefully. "Boy troubles?"

There was some tangled mutters, and she waited patiently for George to look up and start talking. Finally she did, and began her halting explanation. "Well, we're texting, and it's nice but he's...he's detached – no, no he's not, it's not detached... but it's this, like, a distance? It's like he's not interested, you know?"

"Is he playing games with you George? Because we're too old for that shit, and trust me, you so don't need someone like that in your life."

"No he's not playing games...that's not him. I just don't get this at all."

"Who does? Boy's are stupid."

"But – something, well, something changed after last time."

"You mean when you threw up everywhere?"

Georgie whined and her forehead landed back on the desk. She shoved her phone as far away from her as her arm could reach. Oops.

"Okay sweetie," Charly said. "I don't quite understand what it is that you want from him. If you want to see him again, then just say it. You have to be honest."

George looked up. "But apart from being generally friendly, he's given no indication that he wants a repeat."

"But you do," Charlotte stated.

"Yeah. It was...good," Georgie croaked, blushing bright red.

Charlotte raised her eyebrow with a smirk. For someone as private as George to say as much was an indication of how 'good' it must have been. "Well tell him that then," she suggested. "Take charge."

"Oh right. Cause I can totally say, 'Hey Lincoln – you're such a phenomenal fuck that I've been flustered all week. Fancy another round? It may finally get you out of my god damn head!'" Charly choked on her saliva in pure shock and she spluttered out a disbelieving laugh; hearing a phrase so outrageous come out of Georgiana's mouth was a first. Georgie groaned and her forehead hit the desk with more force this time. "It's not funny! It's literally running through my head on a loop! Like some X-Rated movie. Some beautiful, erotic X-Rated movie," she sighed.

"Okay, you definitely need another round."

"I know!"

"Why don't you say, 'Come over tonight, and maybe we can have round three? winky face'."

"Ew no. That sounds cheap."

"Oh my god. You're going to protest to anything I say, aren't you?"

"Not if it's good I won't," Georgie argued sulkily.

"How about, 'I wanna see your heavenly stick of justice again... Yeah big boi woowoop GET some'."

"Very funny Charles."

"Alternatively, you could say, 'I think it's my turn to cook dinner for you. Are you free Saturday?'"

"...huh."

"Don't huh me. It's perfect! Quit faffing and give me the phone. I'll send it if you won't."

"No! I'll do it!" She practically dove across the table and snatched up her phone. Charlotte bit back a snicker. After lots of tapping and a few lengthy pauses, Georgie looked up and announced, "Oh god it's sent."

After ten minutes of Georgiana silent moping in her office alone, a shriek had Charlotte charging back into the room. "What? What? What happened?" she garbled.

"He replied!" Georgie threw the phone across the room like it was on fire, and it landed on the couch and bounced to the floor. "I can't read it! You do it!"

"Shh! Do you want the entire floor to know you're having a breakdown?" Charly stooped to pick up the phone, entered the passcode and opened the message.

"He says, 'okay'."

"Okay?" Georgie hissed. "The nerve! That f-"

"Wait wait," the phone vibrated in her hand again. "...'See you at seven', and some weird emoji-face. It's grinning at me- you know the manic one with all the teeth and the eyes?"

"Huh?" Charlotte gently tossed the phone across to her, and Georgie stared at the screen. "What the hell does that mean?" He'd never sent her an emoji before.

"Who the hell knows?" Charly sniggered. "Isn't one I'd ever use, and you know how prolific I am with my emoji's. Least it's unique?"

George put the phone face down on the table – feeling torn in two. This was miserable. How could she get so excited over a silly little face? Honestly, she wanted to punch herself.

Pathetic. She was pathetic.

Charly sensed the change in mood, said a quiet goodbye and stepped out of the room.

She sighed. If only George would open herself to whatever would happen with Lincoln...just be brave, let go, and see where it would lead.

But Charlotte knew her friend, and she knew that it was highly - highly - unlikely.