Landen’s eyes grow wider as he looks between us, probably wondering if I’m going to kick his ass in the middle of the airport walkway.
“Stay away from Delilah, you fucker,” I demand as we make our way to our seats.
“What? She wanted an upgrade…”
I’m almost tempted to shove him on his ass. Not because I want Delilah but because he’s being a dick.
“Ooookay…” Landen drawls. “If I have to sit next to y’all on the plane for the next four hours, save the ass kickin’ for when we get home.”
Landen sits in the middle seat while I take the aisle and Wilder hogs the window.
I didn’t get the chance to reply to Poison Ivy Girl’s last text, so I take out my phone to respond before takeoff.
“So tell me about the girl who flirts with you,” Landen asks, leaning closer and interrupting me. “What’s her name?”
“I dunno. I only see her phone number.”
“Y’all didn’t do introductions or anything?”
“No, Jake didn’t do that. I was added in after they already formed it and they were mid-conversation. When someone said something I could help with, then I chimed in. And it just went from there…”
He doesn’t need the details about when she showed off her ass bruises and me asking about them.
“Well, you’ve got her number, don’t ya? Just text her and say, Hey, I’m Waylon from the group chat. What’s your name?”
A little too late for that.
“That sounds so high school.”
He arches a brow. “Asking a girl for her name?”
Nah, just asking her a month after we’ve been talking. The moment I admit we’ve been having full-on privateconversations, he’ll never let it go and tell our siblings so they can give me a hard time, too.
“I’ll think about it.” I shrug.
“Is she local?”
“I think so.” Based on her knowing parts of the area, I assume she is anyway.
“Well, lemme see her number. Maybe I’ll recognize it.”
“How? From your manwhore ways five years ago?” I chuckle but then hand over the phone with the group chat open.
“That one…” I click on her contact and point out her number that ends in 666, which is kind of hilarious.
He furrows his brows when he reads the name I gave her but doesn’t say anything. Just studies it.
“Well…do you know it?” I finally ask when he’s been silent too long.
He hands me back the phone, shaking his head. “Nope. Sorry, man.”
A part of me hoped he’d recognize it so I could put my curiosity to bed, but another part is glad he doesn’t because it means he probably hasn’t slept with her.
“Good luck figuring it out, though,” he adds.
I lift a shoulder. “Yeah, thanks.”
After we land and drive to the ranch, it’s nearly six hours later. I’m exhausted, hungry, and need a hot shower.
