Page 63 of Just Don't Call Me Yours

Especially Margot.

I watch her expression carefully as she unlocks her phone and reads the messages, a frown forming on her lips. “Wow,” she says quietly to herself.

“Yeah.” I start to play the melody I’ve come up with recently. It’s not great, but I think it can be with a little work. I nod toward her phone. “I can give you my number.”

She looks at me again like I’ve somehow surprised her for a second time. With a dubious lift of her brow, she says, “Are you going to start sending me goodnight texts now?”

My hands freeze, the corner of my lips twitching. “Do you want me to?”

Margot laughs. “No.”

My mouth quirks at the sound of her laugh, but then my eyebrows furrow. “Wait. You’ll have Keith’s number in your phone but not mine?”

“To be fair, I didn’t want Keith’s number in my phone, either.”

I nod slowly. “But you wouldn’t tell him no because you were afraid you’d hurt his feelings.”

She gives me an unapologetic shrug. “But I’m telling you no, so that’s progress.” I hate that she’s cute even when she turns me down. My fingers pick up playing where they left off. I’ll get her number before I leave—I have to.

“Hey, that’s good.” She nods to my guitar.

I cock an eyebrow. “You don’t have to be nice to me just because you’ve seen me naked.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch her cheeks blushing and probably take a little too much pride in it. Maybe I’m not the only one who thinks this shift between us is weird. Not bad. But the air definitely feels different. Maybe we’ve finally created some type of truce.

“Please,” she says with a scoff. “I’d tell you if it was bad.”

“So,” I say with a suggestive lift of my brow. “It wasn’t bad?”

She tries to fight her tight-lipped smile, her mouth twisting. “The song.” She laughs as she adds, “The song isn’t bad.”

I hold her gaze for a beat longer than I should before looking down at my hands as I pick at the strings. “It needs some work—and lyrics.”

She gives me a sideways glance. “You know whose lyrics always inspire me?” Without waiting for me to answer, she leans toward me ever so slightly and whispers, “Taylor Swift.”

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Yeah, ‘Shake it off.’ Earth shattering.”

Margot shakes her head at me disapprovingly as she reaches into her bag and pulls out her headphones. “No. Here.” She hands me an earbud.

My eyes drop to the tiny piece of plastic in her hand. “What?”

“You put it in your ear.” She demonstrates by putting half the set in her left ear like I’m an idiot. I’m still staring at her when she holds her phone up and raises her eyebrows, impatiently waiting for me to comply.

“Fine.” I put the earbud in. Nodding to her phone, I add, “But I’m only listening to one, so make it a good one.”

“They’re all good,” she says simply.

There’s already a song playing. It must have been the last thing she was listening to, and this breathy sigh plays in my ear. “Taylor?” I ask with a hand over my mouth in mock disbelief.

Margot pauses the song, the corners of her mouth lifting. “That’s not the one I was going to have you listen to.”

“But that’s the one I want to listen to. What is it?” Setting my guitar down, I slide closer to her and peer at her phone screen.

Taylor Swift

“Dress”

“Play it from the beginning.” I point to the play button.

---