Page 86 of The Love Playbook

ME:

Did you happen to see where I put that hoodie I was wearing on Sunday when I took it off?”

The little texting bubbles on my screen dance, and my stomach flutters with anticipation.

CHRIS:

Hang on.

I frown at the text, then balk at my phone when it starts to ring and Chris’s name flashes over the screen.He’s calling?!

I fumble with my phone, trying to think of what to say when I drop it and watch as it falls between my bed and my nightstand with a clunk.

Muttering a curse, I spot it wedged between the furniture as the ringing dies, then starts back up again.

With a grunt I slide my hand down the side of the nightstand, barely gripping it with my fingertips and lifting it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Are you out of breath from running sprints, or do I just have that effect on you?”

My cheeks burn at his cheeky tone. “Funny.”

God, why does his voice sound so sexy and rumbly over the phone?

“No snarky comebacks, Lettie? I fear you’re losing your touch.”

I try to suppress the smile splitting my face but fail. “Is there a reason you called, Collins?”

“Yeah, about the hoodie . . .”

I straighten in my seat, a frown taking over my smile. “What about it? Do you know where it is?”

“I may or may not have taken it.”

“Youwhat?” I shriek, far louder than the situation calls for. “How did you even manage that without me noticing?”

Chris snorts over the line. “You were super distracted on Sunday before we left your room. It wasn’t hard.”

“What the hell did you do with it? I was going to give it back.”

“Let’s just say I saved you the trip.”

“Chris!”

“Charlotte!” he mocks.

I growl, frustrated. “What do you mean you ‘saved me the trip’?”

“You know, I always thought that out of the two of us you were the smarter one, but now I’m starting to question it.”

“I swear to god if you don’t tell me right now, I’m going to find a way to crawl through this phone and strangle you.”

“That’s . . . oddly sexy.”

I roll my eyes.

“All I mean is that I found Danger and returned the hoodie for you.”

“But . . . why?” I splutter, struggling to understand why he would do such a thing.

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