Page 13 of Little Monster
“Uh, yeah.”
“What’s your handle?” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, and I’m momentarily shocked into silence.
Dex Reid, the lead singer of Loaded God Complex, wants to knowmysocial media handle? This can’t be real life. And I don’t have many photos on there anyway—mostly violins and Margot and the rare selfie.
My long pause causes him to arch a sandy-blond brow at me, and I stutter out my handle for him to look up. His thumbs fly across his phone. Slowly, a furrow forms in his brow.
“You’re not following me,” he says. It almost sounds like a question, but not enough for me to reply.
No, I’m not following him. I’m not the type of person to follow insanely rich, good-looking celebrities on social media. That’s a perfect way to obliterate my self-confidence, and I struggle with that enough as is. No thanks.
A moment later, my phone dings in my pocket, and when I pull it out to look at the notification, my heart thuds hard.
@DexxxReid followed you
I just stare at the notification for a second, too shocked to say anything.
“Aren’t you going to follow me back?” His voice has a playful edge to it, and his lips are quirking up in the corner again. A breeze swirls around us, making his long blond hair and silver cross earring shift in the air. The metal catches the light and gleams.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
I hit the button to follow him, regretting it all the while. Now how am I supposed to avoid looking at pictures of his ridiculous abs and stupid sexy tattoos when he’s all over my feed? Maybe I’ll mute him later.
Resigning myself to my fate, I lower the phone and look into his reflective sunglasses again. I hate those things; they’re unnerving. All I can see is my own pout and the crease in my brow.
But what’s even more unnerving is Dex’s self-assured smile.
Does he know he’s getting under my skin?
We’re still standing there in silence when a car comes rolling up beside us. It’s a sleek black BMW, and when the driver’s window rolls down, it reveals a brunette withbrick-straight hair that looks right out of a shampoo commercial.
“See you around,” Dex says, slipping his phone into his pocket again and backing toward the BMW. “And Nora...”
Hearing him say my name does things to my insides that can’t be good for me.
“Hmm?”
“Try not to fall in love with me.” His smile is sharp, and his lip ring winks in the sunlight before he turns and gets into the passenger’s side.
Meanwhile, the brunette gives me a scathing look and rolls her window back up.
A second later, the car speeds out of the parking lot, and I’m left standing next to my Honda with what I can only assume is shock written all over my face.
Once again, my phone dings in my pocket, and this time when I pull it out, I find I’ve got a new comment on one of my pictures of Margot.
@DexxxReid: cute pussy
My cheeks flame with heat. Already, I’m tempted to block him. But for some reason, I can’t bringmyself to do it.
Call it curiosity.
Or stupidity.
So instead, I lock my phone and get into my car. The phone dings again, and a jolt goes through me, but when I pick it up, it’s just a picture of a loaf of bread my mom made with her new sourdough starter.
Sighing, I let my head fall back against the headrest and try to calm my beating heart.
This man cannot be good for my health.
