Page 63 of The Fangirl and the Grump

Shaking off the dark feelings that accompany the thought, I click on her payment before hovering the cursor over the refund option. I just don’t feel right charging my girlfr––

I blow out a harsh breath and lean back in my chair. What in the hell am I thinking? Keegan isnotmy girlfriend. She’s a casual summer fling. Nothing more. She’ll go home after the Cursed convention, and I’ll probably never see her again.

End of story.

I stare at the flashing cursor for several beats, then lean forward and move on with my work. I can’t refund her payment. We’re not in a real, lasting relationship, and if I did something like that, I know Keegan would think I’m treating her like some kind of charity case. And she’d hate it.

Or, she’d think I was comping her stay as some kind of payment for services rendered. That would be even worse.

Several minutes later, my phone chimes. Picking it up from the desk beside me, I smile when I see Keegan’s name flash across the screen.

Keegan:I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.

I blink and read the message again, then a slow smile spreads across my face. Are we sexting now? If so, I’m here for it.

I’m still trying to compose an appropriately dirty response about how my cock swells when I think about putting my mouth on her when another text comes through.

Keegan:Sorry about that. Pressley figured out my phone passcode, and she thinks she’s a comedian.

I instantly deflate as disappointment rockets through me.

Me:Ha, ha. That’s okay.

No, it’s not. I wish it were really her.

Keegan:But she’s not wrong, though.

Hold on a minute. Is this going where I think it is?

Me:Really?

Keegan:Your mouth is a gift sent straight from God. Or maybe it comes from Satan, himself. It’s positively sinful.

My heart pounds as I read the words. Thisishappening, right? I’ve never sexted before. Never wanted to. But I can suddenly see the appeal as my cock swells painfully.

Hopping up from my desk, I lock the office door and flip over the sign that tells any visitors I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. As I jog up the steps to my apartment, I tap out a response to Keegan.

Me:What would you want me to do with my mouth if I were there with you?

As I close and lock the apartment door behind me, I watch as the dot bubble indicates she’s typing a response. The bubble disappears a second later, and no response comes through, making my heart drop into my stomach.

Maybe thisisn’thappening.

Me:You still there?

This time the dot bubble pops back up, followed a few beats later by a reply.

Keegan:Yes. Sorry. I had to lock myself in my bedroom because Pressley wanted to know why my face was suddenly so pink.

Me:Are you embarrassed? We don’t have to do this.

Keegan:I’d want your mouth to kiss me everywhere.

I suck in a sharp breath at the image her words create. Moving toward the couch, I fall onto it and stretch out before texting her back.

Me:Tell me where you want me to kiss you, Keegan.

Keegan: My lips. My neck. My breasts.

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