Me: Please.
Daisy: No.
Me: Now who’s the asshole?
Daisy: Still you.
Me: Daisy… give me the damn number. Please.
Daisy: Sorry, too busy flirting with him currently to assist you.
She sends a snarky faced emoji, and I roll my eyes. Okay, so maybe I overreacted last night by the fire. Not that I’d ever tell her that.
When I don’t respond, she sends another text.
Daisy: You’re in the same truck as him, Shooter. Why the hell would you need his phone number? Just talk?
Me: Because maybe I don’t need everybody else in the car to be all up in my business.
Daisy: You mean Copeland? Your best friend.
Me: Your point?
Daisy: He’s too good for you.
My eyebrows fly into my hairline as I re-read her text. I fight the urge to turn in my seat and look at Sterling.
Me: Excuse me?
Daisy: Never mind. I’ll give you his number but don’t be a fucking dick.
She sends his contact through, and I immediately pull up a new message and paste his number in, a spark of something flutters in my stomach that I refuse to put a name to.
Me: It’s Shooter. Daisy gave me your number.
I can hear the vibration from the backseat, as well as the sigh that comes from him, and I can’t help the smirk that grows on my lips.
Sterling: I know. She asked me if it was okay before giving it to you.
Me: Aw, isn’t that sweet.
Sterling: What do you want?
Me: Just wanted to tell you how much I thoroughly enjoyed sucking your dick last night. *wink emoji*
Sterling: That’s it? You went through all that trouble to get my phone number to tell me THAT?
Me: Well, yeah. I mean, you enjoyed it too, right?
His nonchalance makes my palms sweat. Honestly, I’m not used to shit like this. Not only do I hardly ever speak to my hookups again, but when I do, they’re usually flirty and all over me. This is… odd. I don’t like it.
Sterling: Sure. It was okay.
Reading his message, my eyes bug out of my head.Okay?! Okay!Is he for fucking real?
“What?”
My head snaps to my left, seeing Cope looking at me before returning his focus to the road.