Page 37 of South of The Skyway

The heels of my palms pressed into my aching eyes as I forced myself to inhale. Rhyett Rhodes had texted me at six forty-five a.m. Which meant, like me, he was a morning person. And he had the good sense to supply stimulants if he expected me to hold a conversation before the sun was hot. Third, he’d called me beautiful…which should not have immediately impacted my body chemistry, yet somehow sent my blood humming.

Robby never woke me up with a ‘Good morning, beautiful’. And there had been no men between the two to clean up the pitiful mess he made where a relationship should’ve been.

Fourth, and finally, he included my dog in the invitation.

Brexley

You up?

It hadn’t beenthirty seconds before Noel’s face flashed on my screen. Her hair was askew, like a neglected bale of dark red hay, and her freckles were smattered with pillow lines.

“This better be good, Brex.” She was hoarse, her voice dry with sleep.

“Rhyett texted me this morning.”

“Great,” she said sardonically before being attacked by a yawn. “There are two of you to drag my butt out of bed at the ass crack of dawn.” Noel’s zest for life mainly arrived after about eleven forty-five, following three cups of coffee. Before that point, she was as good as a trash gremlin. “Why?”

“He wants me to meet him before he heads down to their property.”

She sleepily raised an intrigued brow, the corner of her parted lips curving before being overtaken by another yawn. “Wants to meet up? That’s what we’re calling it now.”

My eye roll was firmly planted in the camp of epic proportions. “He invited Royal and promised me coffee.”

“Mmm, coffee,” she mumbled, palming at her face on the screen, which bobbled as she stood and meandered through her apartment. “We draw the line at dogs in the bed, though.”

“Eww, don’t be gross.”

“You’re the one that brought Royal into my fantasy about the hotshot.”

Shaking my head as my nerves picked up, I said, “There’s no fantasy. It doesn’t seem like a booty call. He saidgood morning beautiful—”

Her sigh was a huff as she breathed, “God, it’s sexy when they do that.” The heavy clunk of her pulling the filter bin from her coffee machine reached my speaker.

“—and asked me to meet him.”

“Okay.”

“So?” I demanded. This girl had been my go-to for all things social situation, of the male variety or otherwise, since we were surviving pre-pubescent drama.

Noel set the phone on the counter, giving me a prime view of the bottom of her cabinets, the sound of pouring water competing with her voice as she barked, “So?!”

“What do I do?”

“With the successful, sinfully sexy man who’s bribing you with caffeine and quality canine time? I dunno, Brex. Sounds complicated.” The clumsy crash of the carafe enhanced her sarcastic tone as she set it back in place and jammed the button before picking me back up to give me a one-eyed glare.

“So, you think I should go see him?”

“Did he do something atrocious at dinner last night?”

“No,” I whined, running a palm over my face. “The fucker.”

She snickered, phone bobbing again as the sound of the sliding door caught my attention a beat before blinding sunlight whitewashed her screen. When the lens compensated for the sudden flood of sunshine, she was blinking up at the sky like it had personally offended her with its golden enthusiasm for a new day.

“Walk me through it. Why are you hesitating?”

“Well, the annoying twat of a hostess—”

“Annoying twat because she’s actually annoying, or because—”

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