Page 30 of Cold Foot Cash

There was a chair he could set his jacket and flannel on, and he emptied his pockets onto the table, then peeled his shirt off so he could see the baseball bat mark across his ribs. One of the idiots had retrieved it after he tossed it, and had taken a cheap shot during the fight. Probably a couple of his ribs were cracked, but they would heal fast enough. Shifter healing was one of the perks of this life.

Cash made his way into the bathroom and locked his arms against the counter top, then lifted his gaze to his reflection.

He was better than this, wasn’t he? Maybe not. His dad had been a fighter, and his grandfather before him. This was his lineage—to be a fuck-up.

Harley was this normal human woman dealing with a hard time, and his life would make things harder on her. Look what had happened the first day they’d met.

His phone vibrated on the table, and he pushed off the counter, ripped his attention from his stupid reflection, and strode for the phone. It was a text from an unknown number.

You okay?

Hope fluttered inside of his chest.

Who is this?Send. “Please be her,” he whispered. “Please be her.”

Your pretend girlfriend, just checking in.

A grin stretched his face. Oh hell, this girl was fun. Fun but dangerous, and a temptation, for sure.

Why aren’t you asleep?Send.

Because I saw you staring at my door through the peephole. You looked pretty thoughtful there, Cashew. And also forty-five percent creepy.

Creepy? Who’s the one staring out their peephole trying to catch a glimpse of me?Send.

Touche.

He sank down onto the bed and frowned at his battery life. He only had ten percent left and needed his alarm to wake up early enough for work in the morning.

Only one room separated his room from Harley’s. He looked over in that direction and rested his hand on his abs as he thought of a response. He waited a minute before he started typing.I was thinking how lucky it is that we are just friends.Send.

Yeah it does feel like the universe is trying to keep us in the friendzone. You dated my sister, I’m six days from divorce, you’re escaped from prison, you got into a bar fight like fourteen seconds after I met you…the list goes on and on.

He snorted.First off, I didn’t date your sister. That was some actual creep on the internet, and also, next time, get your sister to have the man prove he is who he says he is. A simple video would’ve cleared that up.Send.

Yeah, I know. I told her that a bunch of times.

The rest is legit though. Divorce and prison escapee and you had to lie to police for me. If that ain’t the universe telling you to steer clear of a crush, I don’t know what’ll do it.Send.

His phone was at eight percent battery now. Crap.

You aren’t my type, remember friend?She was being cheeky. He knew she was, but something inside of him bristled at being called her friend.

God, he was going crazy today, and for no good reason.

She was just a woman. A human. A stranger. Just a beautiful distraction.

My battery is about to die. Talk later.Send.

He plopped his phone down on the mattress beside him, resting his hand atop it to feel the vibration in case she messaged again. He stared at the texture of the ceiling, but sat up when he heard a rustling sound outside his door.

He stood to check the peephole, but his phone vibrated with a text.Special delivery, she had messaged him.

He opened the door and found a phone charger sitting on the carpet. He checked, but she’d already disappeared back into her room a couple doors down. Cash huffed a laugh and pulled it inside, plugged it in and began charging his phone.

What are we watching tonight, friend? I’ve flipped through the fifteen channels, and it seems channel 68 is our best bet for late night movies. It’s a cartoon.

He grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, and queued it up to the right channel. Okay, this was fun.Cartoon night it is.Send. He took a picture of his television and sent it to her.

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