Page 39 of Playing With Danger

“Sorry about that.”

“No problem. What’s up?”

“What’s wrong?”

Good Lord, I couldn’t catch a break.

“I got your text?—”

“Sophie, what’s wrong? Is your mom giving you a hard time?”

Why did he have to be so nice?

This would be so much easier if he was an asshole.

“No, I haven’t heard from her since you put her in her place. So now you have my thanks, times two.”

There were a few beats of silence and I was wondering if he was thinking about my fake blow job offer as gratitude.

Sweet Dolly P, I had to stop thinking about his penis and blow jobs and his face between my legs and what he could do with that big penis of his. My poor vagina had never been so well-acquainted with my vibrator.

“Did you want me to call so you could listen to me breathe?” I quipped.

“I wanted you to call so I could tell you, Ackerman’s been locked up. But now I want to know why you sound like someone told you coffee has been banned for eternity.”

Okay, so this would be easier if he was an asshole and not funny. And maybe if he was five steps down on the hotness chart and his penis was two inches and his hands were small and he’d admitted he hated going down on women because he sucked at it.

But this was Valentine and he was who he was and that included being funny. Which sucked. I loved funny people.

“I got into an argument with Hayden and was kinda a bitch.”

“Kinda a bitch?”

“I said something uncool so yes, I was kinda a bitch, not a full-on one. Though if I’d been that he would’ve stayed and called me out. Instead, I just pissed him off and he left before I could tell him I was sorry.”

“What was the argument about?”

You.

I didn’t say that. I’d never say that. And besides, it was only sort of about Valentine. The rest was about me doing exactly what he said I was doing—hiding away behind the safety of my wall so I couldn’t get hurt again. My mother caused enough ongoing hurt; I didn’t need to invite more into my life.

“Nothing important,” I lied.

“You’re a shit liar, baby.”

I’d heard that before.

“Whatever,” I mumbled. “Everything will work out. It always does.”

I crossed my fingers as an added signal to the universe to make that happen.

“I’m at Balls Deep. Come here and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I don’t need a pity drink,” I said before I thought better of it.

“Come again?”

I hadn’t come yet, but the way his sexy growl made my vagina involuntarily spasm was a good indication I might spontaneously orgasm despite my nightly vibrator regime.

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