Page 12 of Riptide

Foxx

You could say that. Plus, it was the only excuse I could think of that didn’t involve sudden death.

He’s giving me nerdy vibes and, hell, I’m one hundred percent into that. Add that to his profile pic of scruff and glasses, I’m sold.

Finn

So, did the math emergency work?

Foxx

Pretty sure I confused him by talking about topological invariants and their applications in higher-dimensional spaces.

Finn

Because everyone needs to know that, of course. I can imagine his face was probably the same as mine right now.

Foxx

And that is?

Finn

Confused as fuck. But cute.

Foxx

Shame I can’t see.

I grin at my phone again.

Finn

Sounds like you’re fishing for a picture. Worried I’m a catfish?

Foxx

You’d be surprised by the people on these apps. Do you want one of me?

Finn

Sure fuckin’ do. Just no dick pics. I have standards too, y’know.

Foxx

I’d hate to start off on the wrong foot here.

There’s a pause in our back-and-forth, and I don’t want to ask him again for a picture. If he doesn’t send one, that’s fine; maybe he really is a catfish. I should send him one... It’s a normal part of this process, but a part of me wants him to go first. A few minutes pass. The typing bubble appears, disappears, reappears. Finally, my phone pings with an image.

I open it, and immediately my mouth opens into an ‘O’ shape.

Foxx stares straight into the camera, brow slightly furrowed, thick and dark, framing those deep pools of chocolate. And his lips… Fuck, they’re biteable, with a full and pouty bottom lip. He looks serious. And hot. Definitely hot.

I’m already half hard at the thought of him kneeling for me.

No glasses like in his profile picture, which makes his eyes even sharper. Yeah, I can already imagine how his scruff lining his jaw would feel dragged over my skin.

Fuck, that’s exactly what I need.

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