Page 41 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

She scrolled and—tried not to gag.

Pickle juice she could get behind. Hair of the dog? Probably not a smart choice, but a fair one. Raw eggs? No thanks, though if it worked for Rocky, it had to have some merit, right? But some of the items on this list? Sparrow droppings in brandy? Deep-fried canary?

Truly (12:18 p.m.): Pizzle? You’re cracked, McCrory.

She wasn’t expecting a near instantaneous text back but—

Colin (12:20 p.m.): Centuries of Italians swear on bull penis, Truly. Don’t knock it ’til you try it.

Centuries of Italians, her ass.

Truly (12:21 p.m.): My nonna is rolling in her grave. I’m not a pit bull. I don’t need a bully stick.

Colin (12:22 p.m.): Your bark suggests otherwise.

She scoffed into the silence of her apartment, her heartbeat obnoxiously loud inside her head. Asshole. She smiled as she typed.

Truly (12:23 p.m.): You’re a real piece of work, you know that?

Colin (12:25 p.m.): You happen to look in a mirror lately, sweetheart?

Her insides fluttered. Stupid, traitorous body just had to go and have the most obnoxious reactions where Colin was concerned.

Truly (12:27 p.m.): Jerk.

Admittedly, not her best comeback. But—

Colin (12:27 p.m.): Jerk? Really? Is that the best you got?

Truly (12:28 p.m.): You can’t handle my best.

Colin (12:30 p.m.): I think you’d be surprised what I can handle.

Her breath vanished and heat filled her chest.

She was playing with fire, flirting with Colin when she didn’t know what she wanted. Except she knew one thing she didn’t want, and it was to stop.

Words were her thing, and Colin gave as good as he got. She hadn’t felt this keyed up just from talking to someone in... that she even had to think about it was tragic.

Truly (12:33 p.m.): Famous last words.

Colin (12:35 p.m.): Sounds a little like you don’t believe me.

Truly (12:36 p.m.): Why should I?

Colin (12:42 p.m.): Because I’m a man of my word.

Colin (12:42 p.m.): And I know what I want.

Her heart hurled itself against the wall of her chest as she read his text two, three, four times, starting to suspect she was the one who’d bitten off more than she could chew.

What was she supposed to say? Duly noted? Good to know?

The obvious answer would be to ask him what it was he wanted, but she couldn’t just come out and do that. If she asked Colin what he wanted, she’d need to dig deep and figure out what the hell it was she wanted and she wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready.

She didn’t want to stop, but this? Whatever it was they were doing was safe. No need to ruin a good thing by taking it any further.

Truly (12:48 p.m.): Sorry again for anything offensive I might have said last night. I don’t usually cut loose like that.

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