Page 29 of Last Night Was Fun

Guilt prickled at her for messaging so late, but it dissolved as soon as he responded.

Why are you still up?? I thought you went to bed at like 10.

I told you, I was out with co-workers tonight.

Until 1am?!

God is it that late?

Yes, we are well into regretting our life choices tomorrow territory now. And I guess I shouldn’t be talking because I just got home too.

Tsk-tsk, Axe Murderer. Did you score any more fake phone numbers tonight?

No. I’m in an exclusive fake number texting relationship already, so not looking anymore.

You mean with ME?!

Who else, Bird Girl.

She knew they were just drunk bantering but couldn’t fight the warmth spreading slow and thick in her chest.

Well, I am honored. Shoutout “Lacey” for the bait & switch that started it all.

She did me a solid.

His dots disappeared, and Emmy’s eyes drooped closed. The strong current of sleep was ready and waiting to pull her under. She popped back awake when her phone buzzed again.

But in all seriousness, I’ve never talked with anyone the way I’m able to talk to you, Bird Girl. These past several days have been the best I’ve had in a long time.

A slow smile unzipped across Emmy’s face. She was tired and tipsy, and he was making her feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy to the point that a confession she’d hardly admitted to herself bubbled to the surface.

Wanna know a secret?

Desperately.

You’re my favorite part of every day.

Her eyes fluttered closed again, and she let the warm, heavy feeling of having told him the truth sink her into the couch. Another buzz popped her awake again.

You’re mine too.

The pain in her leg had almost disappeared. She smiled again. She managed to hit the heart reaction tolovehis message before she fell asleep.

Chapter7

The color of Emmy’s bruise when she woke the next morning landed somewhere between theExxon Valdezoil spill and a strawberry. On close inspection, it looked pixilated. As if the blood vessels had burst and frozen in place. And Pedro was right: she could in fact see the ball’s stitching imprinted on her leg. It was nearly a tattoo. Needless to say, it was hideous. At least the pain pounding her muscle and bone like a jackhammer with every movement took her focus off the fact that her head was full of cotton and screaming with a hangover.

She usually spent at least part of Saturdays working from her couch, but her throbbing body quickly informed her there was no chance of that happening today.

Showering was herculean but helpful. By the time Emmy hobbled to the couch, hair wrapped in a towel and coffee mug in hand, she wanted to drop a bomb on whoever was daring to buzz at her door.

The building’s security system synced with her phone. She pulled open the app to see a black-and-white video of the entrance. She frowned at the sight of none other than Gabe Olson. He held a take-out bag in one hand and chewed his bottom lip, looking nervous. He knew where she lived thanks to them sharing a ride last night, but she couldn’t fathom why he’d shown up at her door on a Saturday morning. Making him sweat out the wait for her response gave her a small bit of satisfaction.

Simply curious, she pressed the button to answer his call. She could see him, but not the other way around. “Olson? What are you doing here?”

He visibly jumped at the sound of her voice. He eagerly leaned into the wall, drawing his face closer to the video screen and, consequently, the camera. At least he looked puffy and haggard with a hangover too. She would have been even more annoyed if he’d shown up with his standard magazine model glow. “Hey! Hi. I was in the area and thought I’d stop by with breakfast. You know, in case you were having trouble getting around this morning.”

Emmy’s frown deepened, wondering if this was some kind of trick.