Page 24 of Sexting the Tattooed Outlaw
“Last night when we were texting,” I explain. “You were also talking to another guy. Or, a fake guy, anyway. I can’t decide if I should be offended or not.”
“We weren’t texting last night,” she says blankly.
“Yes,” I reply slowly. “We were.”
Maybe I was too rough with her last night. Did she hit her head on the bed frame?
“What did we talk about last night?” Kay asks, scrolling through her phone in a panic.
“Just stuff, I don’t know. You told me you’d never had an orgasm with a man before and challenged me to break the streak. Then I came to your room and…”
I grin.
But she’s not smiling.
“That wasyou?” she whispers, looking almost horrified.
“You didn’t think it was me?”
“I…that’s why you came to my room,” she says. “Oh my god. Because you thought I was telling you to.”
Things click into place. Suddenly it makes sense, and I realize now that our entire text conversation last night was a game with a bot, in her mind. It wasn’t real. She didn’t mean to invite me into her bed, she didn’t mean for me to come in here and…
“I need to go,” she says. “And so do you. Sneak out of here and down the hall. Do it quick.”
“Why?”
“I just…wow. I don’t…I’m sorry, Sam. I think I just need a minute. This is crazy.”
“Wait.”
She’s rushing around the room, throwing on her clothes. Her hair is still wild, lips still swollen.
“No. I need to go,” she says. “Sneak out of here after I leave, okay? I need to go.”
I rise from the bed, but she leaves before I can stop her.
Fuck.
CHAPTER 11
KAY
One thing is certain.I’m just as in love with Sam as I ever was. And now that I’ve had him inside of me, felt his rough hands on my body, I don’t know how I’ll ever recover from losing him again.
I’ve had ten long years to heal and move on. He’s back in town for two days and he’s already undoing all of that hard work.
Maybe I was never really over him.
Maybe I just got good at lying to myself, distracting myself with my business and dating other men…burying old memories of Sam beneath a mountain of new memories.
But now he’s here. Impossible to ignore.
I run out of things to do at work, and with two baristas and a shift manager scheduled for today, there’s no real need for me. So I drive back to the house, hoping Sam’s either gone or busy working in the barn or the back pasture so that I can sneak in unnoticed.
When I pull into the drive, I’m met with a sight from the past.
I gasp, slowing to a stop in the driveway beside it. It’s shiny red paint gleams beneath the afternoon sun. The tires look brand new, jet black and wet-looking. The glass is clear, just the slightest layer of orange dust on it from the driveway.
