Page 114 of The Downside of Love
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I reach into my pocket, pull out my phone and unlock it, then hand it to her. Smiling at me, she enters her phone number into my phone and then texts herself.
“There.” She hands me my phone. “Expect a text from me.”
“Come on, Flyer,” Colt says, leaning his head back in the bar.
I nod at him to let him know I’ll be right there. “Got to go. It was good seeing you.”
“Yeah, you too . . .Flyer.” She winks and takes off toward the door, her pert little ass swaying behind her.
I scratch the side of my jaw. That was weird. But I can’t get the curve of her smile out of my head.
Expect a text from me.
Why do I feel like I just stepped onto a ride I’m not fucking ready for?
