Page 37 of Treason's Temptation
“What date?”
Fallon grabbed her purse, shaking her head, “You and your man need to communicate better. Let’s go. Ward is downstairs.”
“Don’t hurt ‘em too bad, Hot Mama,” Rylo encouraged.
“I’ll see what I can do. What time are you off?”
I wasn’t even sure why I asked, but Rylo’s personality was comforting compared to what I was stuck with.
“Six if my fuckin’ relief shows up on time. What? You need me to do those nails for you?”
“You do nails?”
“Honey, I do a little of everything, and you need a fresh set. A bad bitch cannot be on camera with these nails,” he frowned, grabbing my hand as if I didn’t know how they looked.
“I can make you a nail appointment,” Fallon offered.
“I want Rylo to do them.”
“I’ll see if my sister can bring my stuff. I can’t have your hands looking raggedy for your big date.”
Rylo saved his number while Fallon paced the living room until he finished. When we reached the lobby, the same black truck sat at the curb. Ward opened the door, and I climbed inside first, fumbling with my phone. This entire ordeal had me off my game in a way that fucked with me. I scrolled through my contacts because there was no way Treason had taken my phone and didn’t save his number. When I reached his contact, I frowned and tapped it to send him a text.
Me: Who the hell is Stink?
Stink: Me. You look like the Stink type.
Me: I prefer Jackass.
Stink: As long as you’re calling me, I’m with it.
Stink: Wassup Vie? You good?
Me: Fallon said I have a date tonight.
Stink: You do.
Me: Would’ve been nice to hear that from you.
Stink: I’ll do better. Have fun shopping.
How this man got under my skin belonged in the Guinness Book of World Records. Being submissive would be a lot harder than I thought, staring out the window until we arrived downtown. Ward opened the door, and Fallon led us inside the boutique, instructing the saleswoman to help me while she whipped out her iPad.
She returned holding a red dress, and the color alone intrigued me enough to try it on. Inside the fitting room, I slipped it on, and my phone rang.
“Hey, Squirt.” I sat on the bench, excited to hear Rayven’s voice.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling and texting you!” The Rayven I knew was soft-spoken, but her voice rippling through the speaker was anything but soft.
“Sorry, I got wrapped up in something. Are you okay?”
“Freaking the fuck out. I’ve been worried sick about you. I was calling, but you weren’t answering. I thought.”
Rayven couldn’t say the words, but I knew what she meant.
“Take a breath, kid. I’m fine,” I laughed, hoping she would do the same, but I could feel her panic through the phone. “What's wrong? Are you okay?”
Rayven panicked me until she shared, “I got a C on my midterm!”
