Page 74 of Hart Breaker

“Lauren …” I begin.

The little shit talks over me. “He’s wrong; he’s not a love virgin. We’re taught to love from day one and learn all the lessons about it every day of our life. He has an amazing bond with his family and loves them.” She walks out of my closet with the Louis Vuitton bag Ava gave me for graduation that I only use for things like …

“Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?” she sings.

I roll my eyes.

“You have only used this bag on the day of the draft.”

“I had to play the role of bouj,” I defend.

She drops it on my bed then walks to the bathroom. “You claimed Hudson Hart that day. Admit it.” She walks out with sheets. “The second thing, get the hell up; I’m not sleeping on sheets that smell like my future niece or nephew.”

“My kids will not smell like spooge.” She laughs as I get up, strip the bed, and then read more of Hudson’s texts as Lo makes the bed.

Hudson:

I get you just got out of a relationship, so I’ll try to dial it back. No promises, because I’m not gonna set myself to break ones I make to you especially.

Hudson:

Come to think of it. When we’re in Jersey, I’m not holding back. You need me to be here; I’ll respect that.

Hudson:

We should probably discuss when you think you’ll be ready to go live in BV, though, because…

Hudson:

Probably should ask you first to be exclusive with me.

Hudson:

I’d have said girlfriend, but that sounded fucked. But it is what it is.

Hudson:

Are you good with that, or do you need a few more orgasms?

Hudson:

Warning: I’m gonna use my dick to bridge whatever distance you put between us to remind you how epic we are together.

Hudson:

You’re so fucking hot. 10/10 recommend.

Hudson:

Shit, that’s not what I meant because I’m gonna lose my shit when men look at you, knowing now what I know.

Hudson:

That sounds no better. You own a bar; they all look at you like they wanna eat that hot little ass. Not a fucking thing I can do about that but trust my dick, my tongue, and my actions will always be something you crave, like I do you and cookie dough.

With each of his messages, I find my smile growing, but that last one makes me giggle. Me, Riley Brooks, giggle. What the hell?

Another pops up, and I lie back and have to shield my phone so Lo stops trying to read the damn messages.

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