Page 64 of Stolen Vows

I hit send, smirking to myself. Maybe I’ll make him blush for once. His response is immediate.

Graham: All of them?

Heat blooms in my cheeks. Oh.

Oh.

I blink at the screen, caught between mortification and . . . something else. Something dangerous and thrilling and very, very new.

Romeo lets out a long sigh, like even he knows I’m in trouble.

I start typing, delete it. Type again. Delete again. Ugh. When did I become this person? This person who agonizes over a stupid text message?

Screw it. I’ll match his energy.

Me: Wouldn’t you like to know?

The second I send it, my stomach tightens. But I don’t get to overthink for long, because his response is instant.

Graham: I would, actually.

Graham: Maybe you’ll tell me. Eventually.

A shiver rolls down my spine. I don’t know how he manages to make plain, factual statements sound like promises. Like inevitabilities.

I stare at the screen, at his name, and realize I’m smiling. Full, ridiculous,grinning-at-my-phone-like-an-idiotsmiling.

And maybe that should scare me. Maybe tomorrow it will. But right now? I don’t care.

I’m still staring at the message when another text comes through.

Graham: Go to sleep, Francesca.

I huff a laugh.

Me: You first.

I don’t get a reply right away, and for some reason, that makes me grin harder. I set my phone down on my nightstand, flipping onto my stomach, cheeks warm.

A few minutes later, my phone vibrates.

Graham: Goodnight, sunshine.

I bite my lip so hard it hurts.

Who knew such a random nickname would make my heart squeeze so hard?

The door chimeson Tuesday at 4:30 p.m., and my head snaps up from the

counter.

Graham.

It’s stupid, how much relief washes over me at the sight of him, but I don’t let myself dwell on it.

My heart does a little stutter-step in my chest as I take him in. He looks the same as always. Dark henley stretched across his broad shoulders, faded jeans hugging his muscular thighs, a few errant strands of hair escaping the knot at the back of his head. But there’s something different in the way he’s looking at me, something heated and intent that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Hi,” I breathe out, suddenly feeling a little unsteady on my feet. I grip the edge of the counter for support, hoping he can’t hear the way my heart is pounding in my chest.

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