Page 52 of In Love and War

Do it now, stop just staring at your phone.

6:07 p.m.

There is no way in all of fucking hell you won’t regret going up there.Cancel.

6:08 p.m.

You’re being an idiot for even considering it.

6:09 p.m.

You’re already ten minutes late. Just send the stupid text.

6:10 p.m.

You know why you ran out yesterday. You can lie to yourself all you want, but if you don’t nip this in the bud, it’s only going to get worse. Don’t do it.

6:11 p.m.

There are exactly zero scenarios in which you get what you want out of all of this. Life isn’t a fucking fairy tale. You’re not a teenager anymore. Grow up, get through the next couple of months of working with him on this account, and then let go.

Eventually, you’ll forget and it will all go back to the way it was.

6:12 p.m.

Seven years.

I opened up my messages, clicked his name, and started to type out an excuse letting him know I had a headache and was going to bed. But before I could finish, a picture of my black lace underwear popped up on the screen, followed by:

El Diablo

Is this what you were talking about?

He’s baiting you. Don’t bite.

I ignored the taunt and finished typing my message. And then reread it to make sure there were no spelling errors.

And then read it again.

And again.

Fuck.

I deleted the text, got up, put on my shoes, and walked out the door.

17

“Give me the goods,” I demanded, holding out my hand when Zac opened the door. He was in jeans again, paired with a light grey T-shirt this time.

He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. A dimple made an amused appearance as he looked me up and down.

Maybe I should have checked the mirror a sixteenth time.

“Hello to you too,” he said once his eyes made their way back up to my face, taking their time. “I would love to, but you stood me up. I’m not sure I want to encourage that kind of behavior.”

“No I didn’t, I’m standing right here,” I pointed out.

I was twenty minutes late, having maybe changed my mind a few times on my way up.