Page 9 of Text Appeal

Me: I didn’t have to. Word of this alleged love triangle is all over town. Don’t suppose you had anything to do with that?

Ava: Oops. Were you and Connor supposed to be a secret?

Ava: What’s great about him is he’s always had my back. Out of everyone I have ever dated he loved me best. And he still does.

Me: Okay.

Ava: Okay? That’s it?

Ava: You are so strange.

Me: What are you going to do when you get totown and find out I haven’t been lying to you all this time?

Ava: Guess we’ll both see soon enough.

Ooh. Another ominous statement. She needs a healthier hobby. Something less threatening/annoying to those around her.

I hear a knock on my door. My music is playing low, and I haven’t been unduly loud. No stomping or screaming. My neighbors do not have cause to complain. But what else could it be at this time of night?

The view through the peephole is of a large male. A stranger. He’s tall and wearing a baseball hat. Due to the low lighting in the hallway and the way he’s standing, there’s not much else to see.

“Martha sent me,” he says, as though he knows I am right there. “She wanted me to move your car back in front of your building in case you need it. If you’re okay with me doing that.”

Shit.This must be Connor. It’s true I told his grandmother where I was living. Though it’s an odd time for gentleman callers.

“I know it’s late, but I was on my way home and saw your light on,” he continues in a deep voice with an edge of grump. Like he would much prefer to be home in bed. “I can come back tomorrow if you prefer. Or not at all. Your call.”

Love how yoga pants and a navy and white striped tee can be both casual clothing and bedtime wear. Because comfort matters. This, however, is not how I would choose to meet the man. I undo the deadbolt and open the door.

I am about average height and weight. But he’s six-foot-something with longish blond hair and a face that belongs inHollywood. He’s all square jaw and sharp cheekbones. The dude belongs on the cover of one of my books, and not even the shadows beneath his tired eyes can detract from his appeal. How he sets my loins afire.

“Hey,” he says, removing his ballcap.

And there I stand in silence with my mouth hanging open.

“You must be Riley.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face. “I heard we were dating and thought we should meet.”

CHAPTER THREE

“Ha. Cute.” I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms over my bountiful breasts. A bra with padding would not have been wasted. His hotness is so in your face. It shouldn’t be allowed at this hour of the night. For shame. “I thought maybe you were here to get your messages.”

He frowns down at me from his lofty height. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re a very popular person.”

“I just wanted a quiet weekend. I had no idea they reused numbers right away.”

“Me neither.”

“I’ll have to ask my niece about it,” he says, scratching at the stubble on his chin. He’s wearing black boots, jeans, and a faded old gray t-shirt. Someone needs to start a GoFundMe for the poor thing. The breadth of his shoulders are testing the cotton material to its utmost. “She works at the phone store next to the grocery shop.”

The exact place from whence my new number came. Makes me wonder if she chose to mess with her uncle through me. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” His smile is faint, but proud. “Just on weekends. She’s a high school junior.”

I nod. “Well…I don’t know about you, Connor, but I feel like we’re already couple goals. We’re the talk of the town.”

His frown returns in full force and he hesitates. Like maybe he’s run out of words or something. “Yeah. About that. My grandmother said you’d been in contact with…”

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