Page 20 of Texting My Valentine

“Sorry,” I say, standing. “I can’t ignore this. Obviously.”

“No, I get it.” Julian sighs. “God damn you, Alex. Now go and save somebody’s life.”

I look over at Tori one last time. She’s got her phone in one hand. With the other, she’s twisting her hair around her finger as I walk away.

CHAPTER 7

TORI

Keep it casual, Tori…

That means ignoring the pang of defeat I feel when the silver fox abruptly stands up and leaves the bar. He strides across the room quickly, like he wants to get out of here, away from me, as fast as he possibly can.

“Oh,” Cleo says.

“Oh, what?” I snap, full of anger. I’m aiming it at the wrong person.

Who am I annoyed with? Him for leaving, or myself for caring?

“I thought things were going well between you two,” she mutters.

“It might not have even been him,” I say.

But the idea feels foolish after how specific our texts got. Plus, he was smoldering at me across the bar like he wanted to tear my clothes off. Nobody’s ever looked at me like that before. It made his comments about being cold and unromantic seem silly.

“Itwashim,” Cleo replies. “Look, Rowan approached me and asked if I thought it was a good idea if she matched your number with his. She confirmed his number with his friend— the one with the cheekbones at the bar. The one who keeps eyeing me up?” She raises her hand, waving at him.

He grins and snaps off a cocky salute.

“Why would Rowan do that?” I ask, not really wanting an answer.

“She must’ve sensed you were soulmates,” Lily says with a sigh.

“Nope. She smelled the sexual tension a mile off,” Cleo chimes in.

“So it definitely was him,” I say.

“Are you mad?” Cleo ask.

“No,” I admit. “Well – a little since he’s stormed off.”

“Maybe he has a good excuse. You should call him,” Cleo suggests.

“So much for keeping it casual, then…” I mutter.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Lily agrees. “Call him. Beg him to come back.”

“Beg him to come back?” Cleo repeats in disgust. “Somebody steal the girl’s sangria!”

“Okay, notbeg, then,” Lily says.

“I’m not calling anyone. I’ll text him.”

“Tell him you want to go for a late-night walk on the beach,” Lily suggests.

“I’m going to be sick if she keeps being this bright and happy,” Cleo mutters sarcastically.

“It would be nice, Cleo. And please, don’t say something like ‘only if they have some rumpy bumpy in the sand’ or anything equally gross,” Lily pleads.

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