Complicated Stuff

"You called me your gentleman caller?" he asked the second I answered the Skype call. On video, he looked as indignant as he sounded. "Did old man sound too spry?"

I shifted the webcam so half my face wasn't cut off. "Gentleman caller didn't seem so bad." 

"Can a gentleman caller and the Kama Sutra coexist in the same post?" His brow furrowed. "Does a gentleman caller even get to see your ankles?"

"Not in a blog that his mother reads. Besides, I can't call you my boyfriend." I wrinkled my nose as I tasted the word. "I just can't. It doesn't feel right. You're not a boy. You're all man."

He sat up taller in his office chair. "That's right, I am."

"I haven't found the right word for you yet." Pursing my lips, I reviewed the options. "I like beau."

He looked contemplative, like he was rolling the word around in his head. "Beau has promise." 

"I wonder if any of my blog readers have suggestions."

A wary look entered his eyes.

Prodded by my shoulder devil, I rubbed my chin like I was in deep thought. "Maybe I should ask them."

"Um..."

"You don't mind if I blog about you from time to time, right? It comes with the territory." Because I'm truly evil, I added, "I'll try not to talk about the type of underwear you prefer or anything."

"We're going to have to set boundaries, aren't we?" 

Oh, you can try, I answered in my head. But in the interest of keeping the peace, I nodded. "I would be open to such discussions."

His gaze narrowed. "Why do I feel like you're just humoring me?" 

I blinked innocently. "I have no idea."