Page 45 of Romeo

The phone went dead.

Maddie pulled it away from her ear to confirm the woman hung up on her. She quickly texted Zeke’s number.Call me when you’re not busy. Hopefully you’re okay.

Just as she was about to toss her phone on the passenger seat, her phone dinged with an incoming text.

The second she pulled it up, she regretted it. It was a photo of Zeke with one naked woman sitting on his face while another sucked his cock. The message with it read:He looks okay to me.

The only reason she recognized him was due to his tattoos. Otherwise, since his face was covered, it could be any photo of a man having group sex. But she really doubtedZeke would keep those kinds of photos on his phone. Naked women? Probably. A naked man? Not likely.

She quickly deleted the photo and wondered what she should do next.

The best thing would be to go home, have a couple glasses of wine, and watch a rom-com or something. Anything to get her out of this foul mood.

She searched through her contacts. She could call home and talk to her mom or sister. She could also call Jude.

She could even call Shade. With him, she just wouldn’t be able to vent about work. Otherwise, she might end up jobless and not because of being fired, but because her boss would no longer be breathing.

That was also her fear when it came to talking to the rest of her family. If Shade caught wind of her troubles at Smith’s, he just might hop on his sled and take a trip south.

She had to protect her stepfather from himself.

Instead, she continued to scroll. She could text Gabi and see what she was up to. See if she wanted to grab dinner or something or even come over to watch the movie with her.

But before she found Gabi’s number, another entry caught her eye.

BBC.

Was that a joke? It had to be a joke.

She didn’t put that in her contacts?—

No damn way…

Holy shit. She forgot that Romeo put his number in her phone at Bangin’ Burgers.

Should she call him? Or just try to ignore that he existed?

Or she could call him.

Just to give him shit about the whole BBC thing.

But maybe that was why he did it. To get a reaction from her.

She should ignore it.

She should.

But did she?

Of course not. She clicked on the number and pressed Send.

Her excuse? She really needed to take her mind off work that didn’t involve a lot of alcohol. He might be able to do that without her getting buzzed to do so.

The man with a “BBC,” as he self-proclaimed, might be her solution.

His phone only rang once before he answered. “‘Bout time.”

She rolled her eyes at that greeting. “BBC? Really?”

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