Page 38 of Toxic Wishes

“Colt.”

My eyes go wide at hearing the sound of his name again.

There's no way. Could it be? No, it's not possible. There are plenty of guys named Colt in the south. Besides, he’s in real estate. He wasn't a football player. But then again, how did he know Troy, who was an NFL player?

You’re just overreacting, Abigail. It’s not him.

“You…okay?” he asks as I continue to shake his hand, taken away by my thoughts. I pull my hand away, resuming my position on the kitchen counter.

“I’ll ask again, why aren’t you in there taking pictures?”

I scoffed out a laugh. “Not my thing.”

“Not your thing?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Isn’t that every girl's thing?”

“Not this one,” I say, stirring my ranch dressing around with a carrot.

“Why?” He says, and I can hear the smile behind his tone.

“I’m glad I’m amusing you, but if you must know, it’s because I hate how I look in photos.”

“Oh, stop.” He waves a hand at me as if I’m being ridiculous.

“I’m serious.”

“So you have no photos you like of yourself?”

“Nope, nor do I take them or am I in them,” I say with a condescending smile.

“I doubt that.” Before I can blink, he snatches my phone from the island and hits a button, and I know he’s opening my photo gallery.

“Hey, give that back,” I demanded.

“You’re a girl I’m sure you have plenty of photos in here.”

“Give me my phone back, now.” I try to reach for it, but he’s significantly taller than me, so all he has to do is hold up his arm. He continues to scroll as I struggle to get the phone out of his grip.

“I bet there is one photo in here you are proud of.”

“Colt, that’s my phone; give it back, geese.” I continue to jump, trying to reach for it when I see his face

Oh shit, the selfie I took last night of myself.

He lowered his arm just enough for me to snatch it out of his hand. “What’s wrong with you?” I say, beyond agitated now.

“You can’t just take someone's phone and start going through all their pictures. That’s an invasion of privacy.”

A wide grin spreads across his face

“Maybe, but guess I was right. There is a part of your body you do like taking pictures of after all.”

I roll my eyes. “I was drunk and being dumb. I just broke up with my ex, and believe me, I regret ever taking that.”

“I don’t.” He says with a sexy smirk. God, he’s gorgeous. Why does he have to be so fucking cute?

“Ugh, you’re such a guy,” I say, playing off the butterflies floating around in my stomach.

“Thank you.”

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