Page 70 of Can't Text This

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Me too.”

“You’ve been driving me nuts for weeks now. I can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop wondering what it would be like to kiss you again.”

“Stop wondering then.”

He pulls away, smirking. “Was that your way of asking me to kiss you again?”

“What if I say yes?”

His eyes swirl with heat, darken with desire. “You better say something, Monty. You better say something rightnow.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to ask me to kiss you.”

I stare up at him. He’s so…Robbie.

There’s just no other way to describe it. We look so silly right now, wrapped up in one another in the middle of the floor… His tanned, toned skin next to mine… His strong, massive build overtaking my small frame.

We make no sense, but I’m tired of trying to figure it out.

I want that night of passion he’s promised, want to know if us rolling around in the sheets is going to feel as good as this.

I want him, and I’m done trying to tell myself otherwise.

“What if I want to say more than that?”

His nostrils flare as he tries to hold himself together.

“Monty…” His voice is hoarse and raw. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“And if I mean them?”

He groans as his head falls back onto mine, our foreheads connecting again, noses rubbing together. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Another prayer—one I’ll answer.

I push onto my tiptoes until my lips are brushing against the shell of his ear.

“Take me home, Robbie.”

Eleven

Monty

“I should text Denny.”

“Already did.”

“How?”

“Technically, I texted Zoe, who then told Denny. We’re good.” He tugs on my hand. “Come on. Cab is almost here.”

“Cab? But I drove—we can just take my car.”

He stops short and I nearly crash into him. Spinning my way, he grabs my arms and pushes me against the nearest wall.

I’m starting to find that I like being pressed between Robbie and a wall…or a sink…any hard surface will do, really.

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