Page 62 of From Nowhere

Ozzy: I have a busy day at work

Ozzy: So please don’t send me too many inappropriate texts

Ozzy: Keep it to 5 or less

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Jamie says.

“Who?” I glance up from my phone.

“That grin on your face can only be from one guy. Plan a sex date.” Jamie heads upstairs. “I’m going back to bed. Getting up early enough to make Fitz breakfastandconvincing him to stay for it was exhausting.”

I laugh while calling Ozzy.

“Good morning,” he answers.

I open my mouth to ask him when and where we can have sex, just not in those exact words, but then I choke.

“Maren?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m not sending you inappropriate texts. That would require inappropriate thoughts. And I’m not having any of those.”

“I bet you’ll be heading south later this week. They’re dealing with new fires every day. And I know you’re thinking about the shed.”

“You could be right about the fires. But not the shed. If I’m in town Friday, I could drop Bandit off at your house to stay. I think Lola’s itching to keep him for a few days.”

“She’ll be thrilled.”

“Bandit will be too,” I say.

He chuckles.

“What are you doing?” I take one more sip of my coffee before heading upstairs.

“I worked out and just got out of the shower. I need to wake Lola. Did I pass the test with your roommates?”

I laugh. “I should ask you if they passed.”

“They passed.”

“Listen, I need you to know that I don’t let every guy I date do what you did to me.”

“Okay, then. We’re changing the subject. I like this subject change. I knew you were thinking about it. And it’s good to know, I guess”—he laughs—“that you don’t leteveryguy do that to you.”

I squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush. “I don’t want you to think I’m a bad influence on Lola.”

Ozzy laughs. “I’m not sure how to respond. I hope what happened between us yesterday isn’t revealed to my daughter in any way that could be influential. On the other hand, I must remind you that I said no to the stray cat, and then you took it home. And now I’m hosting it at my place when you’re out of town this summer.”

“You’re upset,” I mumble over my toothbrush.

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re frustrated with me.”

“Before you called, I was looking for any excuse to run an errand so I could swing by your place later today. I’d call that desperation, not frustration.”

The right guy can make any woman feel like a girl—a giddy, emotional, bursting-with-excitement girl. I spit out the suds and press a towel to my mouth to hold in my squeal.

I know I’m a talented pilot.

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