Page 46 of Texts From My Exes
I giggled out loud then nearly dropped my phone. Wait. Were weflirting? My entire body flushed hot then cold. No. Nope. I couldn’t, we shouldn’t. Nope. It wasn’t real. I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t. Some days it felt like he was the only one who got me.
Ezra
The stunned silence says more than you’ll ever know, seriously though, text me, and you’ll be fine. I’m rooting for you even though you hate the color pink.
Me
The color pink is just red pretending like it isn’t full of rage, smokescreens if you will. And thank you!
Shakily, I put down my phone and shoved all thoughts of Ezra away. It wouldn’t help me—not for tonight’s date, and not for my own heart. He’d already weaseled his way in years ago, and it wouldn’t be hard for me to fall into his arms. My body didn’t need encouragement; my heart was already waving pompoms. But my brain? My brain said false. Because in what world would Ezra ever truly love me?
Which is why I needed to at least give this a chance. Maybe a normal guy. A safe guy. Maybe even a guy who could finally convince me Ezra wasn’t the only option.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
HARPER
If we break-up, do I still get pity sex? Is that a thing?
—Roan
Ezra had stopped work short and decided to tag along on the date. Meaning, he was filming as much as he could and staying out of the way while I stared at the name and corresponding picture on my phone and shoved it up into Ezra’s face. This didn’t look promising, not with the most recently posted picture with the caption,I feel eyes on me always.
He grimaced. “Maybe he’s changed.”
“Changed?” My laugh was sharp. “He thinks everything he touches dies. He won’t even keep a succulent alive, Ezra.”
He smirked—his name rolling off my lips like a curse he secretly loved. “A succulent. You’ve mentioned that. But hey, give the people what they want. You’ll go on two more catastrophic dates, finally realize how lucky you are to have me… no more fighting, no more late-night rendezvous which—actually—” his grin widened. “I might need to re-think that last part.”
My hand flew up, clamping over his mouth. “That was a test. For science. For the advancement of the community of growing minds.”
His lips curved under my palm. He bit down gently, then pulled back, catching his lower lip between his teeth. “Are you done, or were you about to read me your manifesto? It was just a handjob.” His eyes flicked over my face. “Unless it meant more to you?”
My entire body went rigid, heat roaring up my neck. Oh God. Ithadmeant something. To me. And to him? I was just a hand. He was just a body.
I was spiraling. I was the psycho here, wasn’t I? I woke him up out of a dead sleep and basically manhandled him.
“You said harder!” I blurted, way too loud.
Ezra nodded, infuriatingly calm. “Thank you for your compliance.”
My breath caught. “Saycomplianceagain.”
He leaned down, voice a gravelly whisper against my neck. “Compliance.”
My body betrayed me. Full goosebumps. Full traitor mode.
We jumped apart when someone shoved past us—the waiter dropping silverware at the table. I clutched my water glass like it could cool me down.
“Okay.” I forced a shaky smile. “Another date. With death-trauma guy. Got it. Drinks at the bar.”
Ezra held up his phone, smirk firmly back in place. “I’ll be on recon. Get some nice behind-the-scenes. How bad can he be?”
I prayed my eyes saidbad.Very, very bad.
Because if I remembered correctly, that ex used to walk me to my door—not to be polite, but because he claimed he had “vivid dreams” of intruders waiting inside.
