Page 71 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

My bangers and mash turn over in my stomach, and like a shot put in my gut, everything feels weighted and too heavy.

“That person is in the States, but they haven’t technically broken any laws, so there’s no recourse.”

“How so?” I ask.

“Well, long story short, this guy went into the sheriff’s office with a friend. He’s reluctant, but the friend insisted, saying he was being scammed. Turns out he’s been spending a couple of grand on her a month ‘spoiling her’ and ‘helping her,’ calling her his girlfriend, helping her pay for her ‘tuition and books,’” he says, with finger quotes. “And, of course, making plans to visit.”

I know he doesn’t mean to poke at me, but he knows Kait and I have never met and have been talking about meeting. I say nothing and watch while he polishes off the food that is no longer appealing.

The server takes my dessert order, but Lachlan declines. If ever there was a time to self-medicate with carbs, it’s now, but I’ve lost my appetite. I order one for now and one to take home. He won’t order one for himself, but he’ll eat mine if I don’t.

“Anyway, every time they plan to meet up, something happens to get in the way, but she says I love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, life without you is meaningless, and makes excuses, and they set a new date to meet.”

“And it never happens?” I ask. “She keeps stringing him along?”

“Well, you and I both know it’s never going to happen, but this guy sees the best in people and goes along with it.”

I have sympathy for the guy, but that’s where the parallels end. Kait and I are completely different. She has repeatedly demonstrated caring far beyond the requirements of her job. The gifts, the playing with my playlists, and funny emails? That’s all a free bonus, and even on my most rational days, I can’t help but think she might feel something more than fondness.

For me, well, I can’t get enough of her happiness, and the thought that she sleeps on sheets I sent her does something to me that I can’t explain, but I love it.

I’ll take anything she’s offering. Anything.

“Long story short, the woman he’s talking to has an arrest record for fraud a mile long. The guy is heartbroken. He thought he had met the love of his life and alternates between being sad and not believing a thing law enforcement says, because ‘his girl’ is smart and sexy and says all the right things.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must be for him.” I can. I can imagine. I have imagined.

“I guess the sheriff’s office gets calls like this all the time, but the old folks are the worst, having their retirement savings wiped out by scammers.”

“That’s awful,” I say, trying to hide my discomfort.

He may think there are parallels, but Kait is wonderful, and I can’t get enough of her. I miss her when she’s busy doing other things I prefer not to think about, and something as simple as a text from her has the ability to light up my world. I adore her. And I’m fully aware that the ball is in her court, but this tiny, absurdly hopeful part of me wants to think that meeting her isn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“And it’s not like this guy is an idiot,” Lachlan says, and I wonder if he’s seeing me in this poor man who’s been duped. I’m savvier than that. “He’s lonely, not stupid. He wants someone to talk to. He’s got a good job with some disposable income. I think the saddest part, from what Pete had to say about the whole thing, is that there was a woman this guy was interested in but ultimately decided not to date because it would have been like cheating. Cheating on his catfish.”

The groan that comes out of me is both miserable and heartfelt. I have unexplored depths of empathy on this topic. I’m a veritable well of it.

“He only went in to talk to Sheriff Pete because his friends got suspicious that he was being scammed. They wanted him to go out with the nice lady who was real and couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t until they told him about Ms. Catfish.”

“Poor guy. That’s awful.” It is. I’d be devastated if something like that happened to me. It’s a good thing Kait is trustworthy.

An image of Helena flits through my mind, bold and confident, offering up a fun time in Dublin. Unlike Julian and his one-time-only rule, one-night stands aren’t my jam. And it would have been like cheating on Kait. Maybe I am delusional, but I’m happy, mostly.

On the downside, I’m spending three grand—four, minimum—every month, not including presents and gift cards. My accountant continues to inquire if he can write the charges off. That isn’t humiliating at all.

It’s not the expense that kills me. It’s how easily I justify it.

But I sleep like a baby. And I’ll likely continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Until she leaves for grad school and disappears one day without so much as a fair thee freaking well.

“What about you?” Lachlan inquires. “Do you and your mystery girl have plans to meet?”

“You know, it’s not serious, just… chatting,” I say, nausea ripping through me. It was a year on April first. A year of talking to Kait. A year of sleep. A year of… something. “Maybe soon.”

We have something. Something special. My sleep is great these days, but when I find myself staring at the ceiling at 3:00 a.m., it’s because I’m thinking about Kait going to grad school and us drifting apart. I adore her. I want more. I want everything she is willing to give.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Take my money. I can survive that. It’s my heart I can’t live without. I get grumpy if I go more than twenty-four hours without talking to her, and if there is such a thing as Kait addiction, I have it. Falling in love isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse; I’ve always felt deficient in that area. But with Kait in my life? Anything is possible.