Page 13 of I Wanna Text You Up

Ever since Caleb showed his white knight side, my eyes have slid his way more than once. My interest is officiallypiqued.

But it can’tbe.

He’s my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, for fuck’s sake. Thatcan’thappen. It’s girl code rule one—you don’t date or sleep with someone your best frienddid.

Which means I can’t notice his indigo eyes or the way they crinkle at the edges when he smiles, can’t be drawn to the stupid dimple in his chin or that ridge on his nose indicating it’s been broken a time or two, and there’s no reason I should want to lick away the drop of beer clinging to his fulllips.

But, Ido.

Shit.

I shake my head and focus back in on the conversation between Delia andZach.

“You guys find anything out of theordinary?”

“Aha! Got it!” Delia says. “Give Zach amoment.”

I watch him swipe his finger over the screen, scrolling through our emails and scanning themquickly.

“How did you miss this, Zoe? It’s obvious ashell.”

“Miss what?” I ask, half interested, half wondering why Caleb’s right hand is in abrace.

I give him a kick under the table, catch his eye, and nod towardit.

“Fracture,” he mutters. My eyes widen, worried because I know what that could mean for his baseball career. “It’sfine.”

Those midnight eyes of his say differently, but I let it go. I nod and tune back in to Zach. “—ame. Did you hear me,Zoe?”

“No. Repeatthat.”

“Edward is not his name. He was playing off your email address and acting as a comic book charactertoo.”

“What? Who? Whichone?”

“The Riddler, whose real name is Edward Nigma. E. Nigma.Enigma. Getit?”

I nod at him, processing what he’s telling me. That means I know nothing of substance about the guy I’m meeting tonight, not even hisname.

Crap.

What was I thinking doing this? Inviting a stranger to live with me? I must beinsane.

“Are you sure,Zach?”

“You’re asking me, the king nerd, if I’m sure? Yes, I’mpositive.”

“So what—or who—should I be looking forhere?”

He chuckles at the irritation lining my voice, and I want so badly to flip him the bird. “Probably someone with a riddle on hisshirt.”

“I don’t…” I glance around the bar, trying to read the t-shirt of every guy sitting alone. There’s one I can’t make out from here, and I know Zach and Delia won’t be able to read it either. “Hold on, let me check this dudeout.”

I hop off the barstool and march toward the guy. He’s sipping on a soda, and when he catches me moving toward him, he sits up straight, pushing his glasses up on hisnose.

His shirt isn’t much of a riddle, just one of those picture plus picture equals whatever kind of things. It’s riddle enough forme.

I plant myself directly in front of him, brow raised. “Youhim?”

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