Page 50 of The Trolley Kiss

I chuck my phone the moment I press send, regretting it already. I shake my hands out like I’m trying to remove the shame I caused from my own decisions. Why did I have to go and fucking do that?

My phone pings with an incoming text, and I basically launch myself across the bed, scrambling to grab my phone. Relief floods my body when I see his name.

Declan:About what?

Well, here goes fucking nothing.

Me:Your size.

The text receipt shows read immediately after it was sent like he didn’t close out of our text thread yet, and the three dots pop up, showing me he’s typing.

Declan:My size?

Me:Don’t play dumb.

Declan:Why are you bringing this up right now?

Me:Because I am thinking about it.

Declan:Would you like to get reacquainted?

Me:Obviously, why else would I have brought it up?

Declan:I can be to your place in an hour?

Me:I’m horny right now.

Declan:What exactly is it that you want from me, Addison?

Me:Want me.

Declan:What?

Me:Want me.

Declan:Why do you always have to play with me? You already know I always fucking want you.

Me:Show me.

Declan:Let me come over.

Me:No.

Declan:Why not?

Me:Because sexting turns me on. Is that a problem for you?

Declan:Let me come over and I’ll turn you on.

Me:All of my best orgasms have been during phone sex.

Declan:Let me rectify that for you.

Me:Please shut the fuck up and ask me to send you a dirty photo so I can touch myself to the thought of you touching yourself to me.

Declan:I always touch myself to the thought of you.

That’s more like it.

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