Page 73 of Holding On To Good

And he wanted, more than anything, to continue to think of her as he stroked his morning hard-on, wanted to fantasize about those soft, warm fingers on his cock. The feel of her skin under his fingers. The quickening of her breath when he trailed his fingertips up her inner thighs. The darkening green of her eyes and the parting of her lips as he slid his hand between her legs.

But fantasies were a waste of time and he didn’t dream about things that were out of his reach.

Instead he’d stomped into the bathroom and taken an icy-cold shower, his new life mantra repeating in his head:

Not for me. Not for me. Not for me.

And now, here she was, reaching out to him, just in case he needed reminding of what he couldn’t have.

Fuck his life.

Three dots flashed. She was typing something even though he’d yet to respond to her last text.

Verity: And don’t even try asking Verity who? because we both know there’s only one Verity in this town and possibly the whole great state of Pennsylvania.

He shouldn’t respond. He should set his phone down and walk away. Turn it off. Block her number.

But fuck if he could stop himself.

Reed: How did you get my number?

Verity: My brother’s the assistant police chief. I could find out your blood type if I wanted to.

Reed: Bullshit.

Verity: Excuse me?

Jesus Christ, she was even polite over text. And he could picture her expression, all bristling with insult and irritation at his accusation. Could practically hear her prissy tone.

For some crazy, messed-up reason, it made him want to smile.

Reed: The assistant chief would never do anything that stepped even one toe out of line. And if he did, the last thing he’d do is give you my number.

Verity: You seem to know my brother pretty well.

He should. Jennings had busted him enough times. But he wasn’t going to give her any more information than necessary.

Not if she wasn’t brave enough to ask for it.

Reed: What do you want?

Verity: I told you. I need your mailing address.

Reed: Going to send me a lovely little explosive device?

Verity. eye roll emoji. Hardly. And can I just say that’s quite the imagination you’ve got there?

Verity: If you must know, I’m sending you a thank-you card.

Reed’s eyebrows raised. A thank-you card? He looked at Titus. “What the actual fuck?”

Titus just gave his version of a doggy shrug and put his head back down.

And the texts started coming fast and furious.

Verity: Look, it’s no big deal. I just wanted to show you my appreciation for your help last night.

Verity: I mean, not that you actually deserve gratitude, what with your sulky disposition and all, but you DID come out in the rain and got all muddy for me, which was really very decent of you, so, yeah, I wanted to send you a proper thank-you.

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