Page 43 of Can't Text This

I roll my eyes. “I know that, Robbie. I mean…how’d you know I was here?”

He takes a step my way and leans down close.

Tooclose.

A woodsy scent wraps around me and I find myself leaning toward him without wanting to. The smell…it’s too enticing, too warm, tooman.

“What cologne are you wearing?”

His chest heaves with laughter. “No cologne. That’s probably my deodorant.”

“That’s the best smelling deodorant that’s ever existed.”

Robbie gets even closer, his grinning face now just an inch from mine. He reaches out his hand and I can feel my heart begin to beat faster and faster, already anticipating his touch—only he drops his hand at the last moment, thinking better of it.

I try not to feel defeated.

“It’s good to see you, Monty.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about seeing you, Robbie,” I admit.

“Why is that?”

“It’s a little weird.”

“Weird? How so?”

I hold up two fingers. “Two reasons. One, I’m out shoe shopping and here you are, popping up out of nowhere.”

“I already told you I’m shoe shopping too. It’s notthatout of nowhere.”

“Right, so you say, yet you’re not holding any shoes.”

He glances down at my hands. “Neither are you.”

I roll my eyes and continue, “And two, I haven’t seen you since you had me pinned to a counter in a public restroom with your tongue in my mouth. It’s weird.”

His grin grows. “Don’t forget where my fingers were, Monty.”

My body lights up and I wish I were back in that bathroom with him.

I wish his lips were on mine, his hands on my body, his warm skin under my palms—

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

I am. I’m thinking about how confident and sexy I felt with his hard body pressed against mine, how perfectly my legs wrapped around his waist, the way his hands tangled in my hair and pulled with the right mixture of sting and pleasure.

I’m thinking about the way he made me quake with desire and fall apart under him, how freeing it was, how good it felt, and how badly I want to do it again.

I wanthim.

“Stop it,” I say out loud, partially to myself and partially to Robbie.

He chuckles, because he knows he’s right, and I stick my tongue out.

“Real mature, Monty.”

I push past him and mosey down the aisle. He follows.

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