Page 73 of Hart Breaker

Pick you up at 5:15.

I watch more dots hop around, and then nothing.

“Rylie, I’m freaking serious; I’m going to drag you there myself if you don’t?—”

“Shush, it’s midnight, and I have to be up at four thirty.”

“You sent the text?”

Yawning again, I answer, “I did.”

She rushes out of the closet. “What did he say?”

“Pick you up at 5:15.”

“That’s it?”

“What was he supposed to say?” And what didn’t he say …

“Your phone was blowing up at lunchtime; I expected more.” She shakes her head. “I’m so disappointed in him right now.”

“You gotta stop. I’m trying to be chill about this, go with the flow, and not let myself freak out, wondering what I am going to do to screw this up.”

She walks over and sits on my bed. “You didn’t screw up with Brett. Well, giving him a second chance was kind of stupid, but whatever.”

I elbow her.

“And the other, that was different on so many levels. Hart’s not them. In everyday life, he’s a golden retriever in an NFL player’s body. On the field, he’s a fucking animal. By the looks of you, and the fact I know damn well when I stand up, I’m probably going to have a wet spot on my ass—which is fucking gross, but I’ll deal for you—that part of him, the animal, spills over in the bedroom.”

I suppress a grin, but she sees it.

“And he also knows what he wants—you. So, even though he’s disappointed me by not spiraling in a text rant, it doesn’t mean he’s not exactly who the F he is. And Ry?” She stops when my phone spouts the stupid ringtone I set for him.

Lo immediately catches on to the tune and busts up laughing. “Heartbreaker?”

“His last name is Hart,” I state firmly so she knows I’m not admitting to shit.

I’m standing firm on this one because admitting that, yes, Hudson Hart is all that and more doesn’t mean he can’t only break my heart but shatter it, and right now, all the pieces still held together are behind a wall no man can harm. That’s all reserved for my future children, which I will have, with or without a man.

Lo’s messing with my phone until I snatch it away.

Hudson:

For years, my focus has been on learning plays, Brooksie. I spent more hours today than I care to admit writing a playbook so I had something to refer to. A plan for any possible block you came up with. And guess what? I’m not even sweating that you think that’s lame.

Hudson:

I’m a “love virgin.” There it is. So yeah, I’m going send texts when I’m thinking about you, which is totally gonna be so much more now that I’ve tasted your sweet little pussy.

Hudson:

Check this, I’ve never eaten pussy, and I know damn well I made you come. So don’t you stress about the LV shit. I’m gonna make your heart come, too.

“Two things,” Lauren states. And that’s when I realize she’s reading over my shoulder.

I bring the phone to my chest. “Hey!”

“Oh please,” she huffs as she stands. “We have no secrets.”

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