Page 29 of The Mistletoe Trap
He raised an eyebrow, and sheharrumphed. “If we want to get technical, it’s more of a quid pro quo.”
…
“Okay, here’s one of the too far messages,” Gavin said.
Julie abandoned her attempt to keep the fillings of her burrito inside the tortilla and licked at the escaping salsa. Once you released your hold on a burrito from Ramon’s, there was no easily picking it up again. Still, for the betterment of her sex life, she set hers down, grabbed a napkin off the pile between her and Gavin, and wiped her mouth and hands. Then she wiggled her fingers in the universalgimmiegesture.
“Isn’t this an invasion of privacy?”
“Yes,” Julie said, snatching the phone from him anyway. “But here’s the thing. Women do this all the time—share texts, convos, and messages with one another, and then overanalyze together and figure out the best course of action. I shouldn’t be punished just because my best friend is a dude.”
“Wow. Really feeling the love here.”
Julie waved the phone at him. “That’s what all these messages are for, hello.I’mthe person who keeps you humble.”
Keeping one eye on the screen, she blindly reached for her drink cup until her palm made contact. She sipped from the straw and read the message.
I’d let you come over and murder my vagina. Next time you’re in Philly, HMU.
“HMU?”
“Hit me up,” Gavin said.
“And did you?”
He tilted his head and narrowed his brown eyes to slits.
“What? You said it was too far, not that it didn’t work. Plus, how often do you get permission to murder a vagina?”
“I’m starting to rethink doing this in the middle of a restaurant.”
“Is that a good pickup line or a bad one?” Julie asked, unable to stifle her smug smile. First, she’d embarrassed him in his bed—wait, that came out wrong. While they were in his bed, he’d gotten embar—still not right. Earlier, while in his bedroom and doing totes platonic activities, he’d blushed. His discomfort shouldn’t be so entertaining, yet amusement coursed through her in a steady rush.
“This one also made me think the woman might be a tad unhinged.” Gavin scooted closer and tapped another of the DMs he’d received through Instagram.
Biology had been Julie’s second language but had taken the lead as her favorite form of communication through the years. Anatomical terms were her home base, and she could discuss the dissection of a testicle over meatballs. Seriously, some dude had shot one of his while cleaning his gun, and she’d gotten to be the one to dig into it and record the damage.
But as she read how this random woman had used anatomical terms—it included a suggestion about his uvula, her vulva, and defecation—Julie’s stomach churned enough that she rethought picking up the other half of her burrito. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. And before you ask, no I didn’t meet up with her or even respond. I blocked her after this message.”
“Fair.” Thanks to getting caught up in articles about women harassed in the office, she’d read some pretty creepy come-ons, but now she was concerned for Gavin’s safety. “You’ve got, like, bodyguards around you wherever you travel, right?”
Gavin shot her a look like she was being ridiculous. “I can take care of myself.”
She continued to stare, unconvinced. She emphasized her feelings on the subject by crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. Without a partner, she was going to have to somehow balance playing good cop and bad cop at the same time.
“In addition to my own strength, speed, and the boxing conditioning I do during the off season, I also travel with an entourage of defensemen who could take out an angry bear.”
“If they worked together, or a bear per defender?”
Gavin sighed, and he could sigh away for all she cared. “I appreciate that you worry about my safety.” He placed his hand on her knee and swiped his thumb across her patella, the motion working like a soothing balm. “How do you think I feel when you’re several states away and you talk about working at the lab late at night? Or going into your apartment complex at one a.m.? There’s a reason I make you stay on the phone with me. I need to hear that you’re safe and sound before I can go to sleep.”
Warmth rushed through her in a comforting wave. “We both need to be careful. Deal?”
A half smile spread across his face, and the next swipe of his thumb did funny things to her insides. “Deal.”
One sharp nod, and she decided to move on. Together, they skimmed more of his messages. The middle ground messages landed closer to the fangirl side of the scale, where there was a hint of flirtation but also admiration and questions about fame.
