Page 115 of Best Served Cold

Zane: good luck keeping the kids quiet

Noah: have fun

Noah: I’ll need it

Zane: you still awake?

Noah: yeah. You good?

Zane: just got home

Zane: too hyped up to sleep

Noah: how was your night?

Zane: good. Decent crowd and the tips were flowing

Zane: how was yours?

Noah: good

Zane: were the kids quiet?

Noah: not a chance

Noah: theyre like wolves. They can smell fear and the desire for silence. Made them fucking feral tonight

Zane: feral?

Noah: oh yeah. Pure chaos. My niece is in a biting stage too so she really leaned into it

Zane: kids are weird

Noah: that they are

Zane: I’ll let you get to bed. Its late

Noah: yeah, I’m fading

Zane: have a good night

Noah: you too

Neither of us had texted today, and I still couldn’t wrap my brain around why he’d texted at all.

Tucking my phone away, I looked at Mason’s grandparents’ house from where I was sitting in my truck.

I shouldn’t be here.

I hadn’t even planned on coming, not until Zane asked.

He was the only reason I was here. Because I didn’t want to wait until work tomorrow to see him, even if he thought I was a giant loser.

God I was pathetic.

Climbing out of my truck, I headed into the house.

The twins’ car was already in the parking area. At least I wouldn’t have to wait to be humiliated all over again.

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