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Me: Okay, mafia man. Relax.
The dots appear again, then?—
Unknown Number: So you do think I’m dangerous.
My pulse skips.
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
Something about the way he phrased that—smooth, knowing, like he’s aware that I’ve thought about it.
About him.
Me: I think you like pretending to be.
Unknown Number: And what if I don’t?
A slow shiver runs down my spine.
Jesus. How does he do this?
I shake my head, pulling myself back into reality.
Me: Well, if you’re planning my revenge, make it subtle. I need this job.
Unknown Number: Noted. No bodies left behind.
I snort, quickly covering it up when Brittany glances my way.
Me: You’re ridiculous.
Unknown Number: And yet, you’re still texting me.
I bite my lip, heart beating just a little too fast.
He’s right.
And I don’t want to stop.
7
DAMIEN
I should be sleeping.
Instead, I’m sitting in my dimly lit bedroom, phone in hand, texting a woman whose name I don’t even know.
And for some reason, I can’t fucking stop.
She’s funny. Quick-witted. Sharp in a way that makes me want to push her, see how far she’ll go before she breaks.
But more than that—she’s bold.
And I like that. It’s been a while since someone intrigued me like this.
Since someone had me waiting for their next text, wondering what they’ll say, how they’ll react.
I smirk as I type.