Page 61 of Romancing His Heart
Her face is flushed, and I swear, I caught her fanning herself. “No worries, it was a great show. Now I’ll have inspiration for the scene I have to write tonight.” Winking, she turns and heads to the other side of the room. There’s no escaping each other here. We had both better get used to it.
I’m going to kill Preston. Grabbing my phone, I send a text to the first thread I find with his name.
Loki: You’re an asshole.
Dexter: There’s a lot of us on this thread, man. You’ll have to be more specific.
Loki: Preston. Preston is a dingle dick.
Preston: How’d you sleep? (winky face emoji)
Loki: You’re a grown man. Don’t use the fucking winky face emoji.
Preston: (winky face emoji, winky face tongue emoji, winky face emoji.)
Ashton: Is this using technology sparingly? What did he do now?
Loki: He sent lingerie for Red, not fucking pajamas, and the asshole sent no goddamn underwear for me at all.
Trevor: No use in fighting it, Loki. GG is three for three. She’s going for a grand slam.
“Sloane?” I mutter. “Have you spent any time with Lanie’s grandmother, GG?”
“Not a ton. She’s funny though, why?”
“Nothing, never mind.”
Loki: I have never met this woman.
Dexter: Doesn’t matter. She pulled your card. Batter up!
Loki: Just send some freaking underwear, please. And maybe some flannel pajamas for Sloane. Big granny nightshirts in flannel would work, too, though.
Ashton: No packages.
Preston: Sorry, buddy. Good luck.
Loki: Fuck off.
Trevor: Luvs. Have you explained blue balls yet? (laughing face emoji)
They’re the worst. They’re also the best things to ever happen to me. I forgot how much I missed them. It’s always been easier to push their memories away than to spend dark months knowing what I was missing.
I lift my gaze, and am mesmerized by Sloane’s movements. Maybe this girl will bring me back to life after all.
Chapter 20
Sloane
Loki was right. After some food, he was feeling much better, but now I’m the dizzy one. My new brother-in-law is a sneaky bastard. He may not have sent Loki any underwear, but he did make sure to send about ten pairs of gray sweatpants. Does he not know about the gray sweatpants movement that has been all over social media for years? Gah!
I have to sit here pretending not to notice the sizeable bulge in Loki’s pants as he paces our small space. There’s a storm rolling in, and he swears he can feel a draft. It’s probably caused by his balls swinging every time he moves, but I don’t mention that.
Attempting once again to focus, I turn my screen so Loki is only in my peripheral vision and open up my manuscript. I stare so long the words become blurry, but I cannot get my brain to cooperate. It’s hyper-aware of every move my roommate makes. That’s why when the phone rings, I nearly swipe the entire laptop to the ground with my wild reaction.
“Are you always this jumpy?” Loki asks, passing me on his way to retrieve the phone from the charger. It doesn’t even matter whose phone is ringing because we talk to the same people, so I go back to my screen as he answers.
“Hey, Ash. What’s up?” There’s a long pause while Loki listens.
