Page 25 of Hold Me Tight

When my phone buzzes with another incoming text, I slip it into my palm and scan the message.

River: If I don’t hear from you in two minutes, I’m coming to get you. FYI-I know where you are.

My pulse kicks up as I peek at the screen.

Does he?

I glance at Beau, relieved that he’s still talking and laughing with his friend.

Me: Okay, I’m calling your bluff. Where am I?

The response is immediate.

River: Sweet Surrender.

My belly dips, and I slowly type out the question uppermost in my mind.

Me: Did you turn my location on?

River: Consider it a safety measure.

Me: That’s a little stalkerish.

River: Agree to disagree.

I should be angry that he thought it was perfectly normal to invade my privacy. But how can I be when a pic of Nora sitting contentedly next to him while watching TV rolls in?

Honestly, it’s the strangest thing.

Who knew River Thompson, superstar hockey player, was actually a toddler whisperer in his spare time?

Maybe he’s right and I don’t know as much about him as I assumed.

Me: Is everything okay?

River: She’s perfect. I just wanted to check on her mom.

Ugh. This man. I’m not sure what he’s playing at, but I don’t like it one bit.

Me: I’m fine. I won’t be out much longer.

I hope.

River: Good.

I’m not touching that comment with a ten-foot pole. For all I know, he’s eager to get on with his evening now that he’s done his good deed for the year. I’m sure he has women on standby for booty calls. That thought sits at the bottom of my gut like a heavy stone. Instead of dwelling on it, I shove it aside, but it continues to nag at me no matter how much I pretend it doesn’t.

Me: Thank you again.

River: Enjoy the rest of your evening out.

Another message immediately pops up after that.

River: Not too much, though.

Me: I’ll try not to.

I stare at the screen a little too long as a strange warmth blooms within me.