Page 21 of Fighting

Not it. Aba will insist on going into a grammar story for me, and I have no patience for his shit right now.

Shae:

Tagging in

Tal:

Shae:

I got you, Tall

Shae:

Tall

Shae:

T A L

Shae:

Damn it, why doesn’t autocorrect know my own sister’s name?

Nessa:

Sibling

Tal:

Sibling

Shae:

Ugh… I’m going to stop fucking things up someday, I promise. Just… not tonight. Okay, Tally Wally?

Tal:

U R my favorite hot mess, Shae.

As I’m aboutto put my phone away, it vibrates in my hand.

Bad Idea:

Admit it. That was fun.

I’m fighting a smile as another message appears. This one instantly wipes the expression from my face and sends a shudder through me.

Satan’s Bikini Waxer:

Loving the coquettish look, babe.

Why don’t you come over and talk with me? I’m staying at the Bumble Bee.

I roll my eyes at his intentional misnaming of the Honeybee Inn. I will not be goaded into a reply. If I give an inch, he’ll take miles. And years of my life. I’ve been down this road before; his reasonable side, the innocuous request that is hard to say no to. However, once I drop the boundaries it’s taken ages to build, he’s a snowball down a mountain. I won’t let the avalanche crush me again. Not with him. Not with any man.

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