Page 89 of Square Deal

Speaking of my phone… I rummaged around in my black hole of a handbag and pulled out my phone. I had four unread texts from Isaac.

Isaac

You never said anything about self-service pleasure. So, I’ve been tapping into my spank bank and getting off to the thought of you using those toys you have in your bedroom.

Isaac

Fuck. What about Christmas? I’m supposed to get you something, right? Do we spend the holiday together or separately?

Isaac

Is there a boyfriend manual? You know, something with clearly defined rules and expectations?

Isaac

Why am I even asking? You probably have color-coded binders, spreadsheets, and flow charts detailing the “right way to have a relationship”. Can you send them to me?

Freaking Isaac Lawson.My heart pounded violently against my ribcage. His panic from across the Atlantic was the most endearing thing he could have possibly sent me. He was trying. He was really, really trying to be good at this dating thing.

“Everything alright over there?” Chase said, glancing over from his seat behind the wheel.

“Mhmm,” I hummed, firing off a text.

Hannah Jane

I may have had some tequila, and I may not be ofsound mind to give you boyfriend lessons. I shall refer you to the movie masterpiece, Bridget Jones’s Diary. I like you very much, Isaac Lawson. Just as you are.

Isaac

I like you very much too, Miss Hayes. But I still hope you have a terrible day.

Hannah Jane

Have a terrible day. Or night. Did I mention I may or may not be sober? Maybe I’ll keep my heels and pearls on and text you a surprise.

Isaac

Hell yes, ma’am.

“Earth to Hannah,” Chase said, snapping his fingers. We were sitting in my driveway. “Where’d you go?”

“I’m here,” I grumbled, flinging the door open and hopping out. The December air was frigid. I wanted pajamas and carbs—in that order.

Chase followed me inside. I lazily kicked off my heels and started up the stairs.

“So, you and your booty call, huh?” he asked, helping himself to my cereal stash.

“I want Apple Jacks,” I hollered from my bedroom. I yanked on a pair of joggers and a soft sweater before padding back downstairs.

Chase sat on the couch with a cereal bowl in his hand and a bowl on the coffee table waiting for me. The box of cereal was between us for refills. “So,” he said, stuffing a spoonful into his mouth.

“Christmas decorations are in the attic.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Boxed up by room and alphabetically organized,” he teased.“You gonna tell me about your boy toy?”

I stuffed my mouth full of red and green loops.

Chase chuckled. “I forget you get like this when you’re buzzed.”

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