Page 49 of Famous Last Words
I stretch languorously with a loud groan, which is when I notice the bed beside me is empty. Heaving myself to sit up, my hazy gaze scans the apartment for any hint of Robbie, but nothing more than the long-forgotten hint of his spicy scent remains. I pull back the curtains to find it’s still raining out and at least mid-morning, and I reach for my phone sitting on the nightstand, my heart doing a ridiculous hop, skip, and jump when I see a text message waiting for me.Pathetic.
Asshat: I had to leave so I could make my PT. Didn’t want to wake you. I hope you feel a little better.
Before I do anything, I change his contact in my phone, because if Robbie did anything last night, he proved that he’s no longer the asshat I thought he was.
For a moment, I stare at his words on the screen.I hope you feel a little better.Suddenly, all I keep thinking about is the feel of his fingers on my skin, massaging me until I drifted off to sleep.
Biting back my smile, I tap out a reply.
Me: Hey. I just woke up. I’m feeling much better. Thank you for last night. For everything.
I bury my head in my hand when I realize I’m actually giddy.Giddy. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m giddy texting Robbie Mason. What the fuck happened between us last night?
My phone vibrates in my hand, interrupting my internal freakout.
Robbie: Anytime, Keller x
I stare at his words, at the kiss. And… oh God.
Flopping back against my pillows, I release a loud sigh.
I think I might be in trouble.
CHAPTER 21
ROBBIE
Keller: Can you imagine my surprise when I answered the door to a man delivering enough groceries to feed a family of five?
As I lie on my stomach while the PT works me over, I’m grinning at my phone like a fucking lunatic.
Me: So random.
Keller: Oh, so you have nothing to do with this? Despite your cell number literally being on the order form?
Me: So weird.
Keller: Why did you do this, Robbie?
I roll my eyes.
Me: Can a guy do something nice without being interrogated?
Keller: Chocolates are nice. Jewelry. Wine. Perfume. They’re all nice... Groceries?
Me: You said you haven’t been taking care of yourself and it might’ve caused your flare up. You need to eat properly to look after yourself and I couldn’t help but notice your cupboards and fridge were completely bare last night. So I ordered you some groceries… no big deal.
She doesn’t reply right away, and the longer I stare at my unanswered text message, the more I’m starting to wonder if I might’ve actually annoyed her. I mean, groceries Robbie… really? What the fuck, man? I groan at my own stupidity.
“Yeah, you’re really tight there,” Jace, the PT says, paying extra attention to my right glute.
I don’t let him know that my groan had nothing to do with my butt cheek and everything to do with a certain blue-eyed girl I bought fuckinggroceriesfor. But then my phone vibrates in my hand, and I find myself releasing the breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.
Keller: Ok, now I’m crying.
My skin pricks and I feel something knot my gut.
Me: What’s wrong? Why are you crying?
