Page 33 of Meet Me at Midnight

ElizaBeth: Is it making you mad?

ThunderStruck: Honestly? I’m not sure what it’s making me other than hard.

I sit up so quickly, I choke on saliva. It’s a Herculean effort, but somehow, I manage to almost die silently.

ThunderStruck: Sorry. That was unbelievably inappropriate. But this is the third time you’ve convinced me to come into this chat, and if that’s not a sign that I’m thinking with my dick, I don’t know what is.

ElizaBeth: Technically, I’ve only convinced you twice. One of those times, you convinced me.

ThunderStruck: I guess you got me there.

Through the wall, I hear footsteps. They move closer and closer before ending right at the wall. Best guess? Beau is now in bed.

Good grief, this is all so insane. And so wrong for a million different reasons.

But I can’t stop. Don’t want to stop.

ThunderStruck: How old are you, Mystery Woman?

I don’t know why, but having Beau Banks call me Mystery Woman instead of Mystery Girl makes me feel some kind of way. It’s the dream, really. Being seen as grown-ass June instead of Avery’s little best friend Juniper.

ElizaBeth: How old do you think I am?

ThunderStruck: Does it matter what I say if I know you’re not going to confirm it?

ElizaBeth: How can I be a Mystery Woman if I confirm things? That wouldn’t be very demure or cutesy of me.

ThunderStruck: Well, sure. Being secretive is very demure AND cutesy. But it’s also incredibly difficult to read.

ElizaBeth: Ah, the beauty of Midnight…

ThunderStruck: Marcus Hughes would certainly love the plug.

ElizaBeth: Well, we are in his app after all.

ThunderStruck: Is there a reason you wanted me to come on here tonight?

ElizaBeth: I have some new intel.

Not to mention how disappointing it was to go two whole days without hearing from him. I have a feeling I’d have come up with a reason to make this happen tonight whether I’d overheard Seth and Madeline or not.

ThunderStruck: About Beth with an S?

ElizaBeth: Uh-huh.

ThunderStruck: I’ll be honest, I’m not even sure if I want to hear it.

ElizaBeth: Oh. Really? Because I think you do.

ThunderStruck: I just don’t know that it’s gaining me more than it’s costing me.

ElizaBeth: What’s it costing you exactly?

ThunderStruck: My morals, I guess.

ElizaBeth: You could give me something in return if that’s your concern.

Your lips on mine. Your hands on my skin. Your body on mine. You inside me. Over and over again.My cheeks heat with embarrassment when I realize how rogue my thoughts have just gone. I have no shame. I have no control. I am an animal.

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