Page 95 of Mr. Wrong Number

Her face turned toward mine and she raised an eyebrow. “Then how do you explain your jack-off corkscrew?”

Now I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Touché.”

She set the dishes on the table and it reminded me of the night she’d made spaghetti and meatballs for Jack and me. She’d been nervous and irreverent, babbling as she served the food and owl-staring at me as I’d tried the first bite, and I’d been absolutely charmed by her.

Until she’d outed herself as Misdial before the night had ended.

God, that seemed like years ago.

We lost ourselves in the food and conversation after that. Liv launched into a story about how she’d broken her heel in a sidewalk crack on the way to her interview, and then she fetched the shoe from the entryway to show me how she’d repaired it by chewing six pieces of bubble gum. She asked about my day and made me describe every detail of my office so she could picture me in it whenever we texted.

I felt a little bit like Olivia; I was terrified because it seemed unbelievably perfect.

Olivia

“Marshall.” Colin’s voice was deep and sleepy. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Hmm?” I opened my eyes and there he was, looking down at me and smiling as I was all snuggled up against his chest on the couch. “I must’ve dozed off.”

“Think so?” he teased.

I sat up and stretched. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Five after ten.”

“Ooh, so late.”

“You’ve got a big day tomorrow.” Colin shut off the TV. “You need a good night’s sleep.”

I climbed to my feet. “Can I borrow something to sleep in? I don’t feel like going back to my place right now.”

“Sure,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him toward the bedroom.

It was weird, going into Colin’s roomwithhim. I’d been inthere alone many times, but following his tall body through the doorway and inside his lair was a brand-new experience.

He hit the wall switch and the bedside lamps turned on, infusing the room with warm light. Man, I loved his room. It was sleek and modern, but still had that cozy feel to it that made you want to snuggle under his heavy comforter and watch movies all day.

“Do you want actual pajamas,” he asked, pulling open a drawer, “or would you rather have a T-shirt?”

“Seriously, look at your drawers.” I walked over to him and peered over his shoulder at the clothes neatly folded in his dresser. “That attention to detail is obscene.”

“I’ll show you obscene,” he murmured, holding up a T-shirt for me. “Does this work?”

I nodded and took it, weirdly nervous all of a sudden.

But before I could overthink it, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at the display, and said as if he was asking permission to answer, “It’s my sister.”

“Take it.”

He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, Jill. What’s up?”

For some reason, I found his friendship with his sister adorable.

He said, “Oh, yeah. Let me get you his number.”

Colin went out into the kitchen, so I took the time to change into his shirt and steal a pair of thick socks from his top drawer. I wasn’t sure whether or not he slept on a certain side of the bed, but I pulled back the blankets and climbed in the left side of the bed.

“Just call him and tell him there’s a tire vibration, and he’ll take care of it.”

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