There’s a splutter of outrage from behind me, but I don’t look back as I slip through the front door. I’ve done my good deed for the night. Time to get lit.
Because as much fun as I had sparring with Quinn, she’s Noah’s little sister. Even if she wasn’t, I’m not about to break the virgin rule.
Not again.
5
QUINN
What the hell?One second I’m dead to the world, images of Henry Cavill dancing in my head, the next I’m staring at my bedroom ceiling, pulse racing. I draw in a ragged breath and blink, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness as the dream fades from memory.
Toss a coin to your Witcher, indeed.
The dream was a scorcher, or it would have been if it hadn’t ended before I got to the good part.
FML.Now I can’t even get laid in my dreams?
There’s a quiet buzz, and my phone vibrates on the nightstand.
Becauseof courseit does.
I debate ignoring it, but my resolve lasts exactly point two five seconds. It might be Haley. I texted her after I got the boot from Sig Chi, but she didn’t answer. For all I know, she’s still there drinking her face off and needs a ride home.
I roll onto my side and grab the phone, holding it up to read the messages.
Unknown: U up?
Unknown: Come on, man. Don’t leave me banging
Unknown: ganging
Unknown: hanging
Unknown: ducking autocorrect
I snort laugh because at this time of night, I seriously doubt autocorrect is the cause of the sloppy texts. Besides, with the way my night’s going, random texts from a drunk dude—I’d bet my right boob it’s a guy—are par for the course. If I want to get back to sleep anytime soon, I need to put an end to them.
Me: Quit slurring your texts. You’ve got the wrong number.
I roll onto my back and watch as three little dots appear on the screen. Then disappear. I’m just about to place the phone on the nightstand when the dots reappear.
Unknown: Shit. U sure?
Is he serious?
Unknown: NM. Sorry. Lost my contacts.
Me: You can restore your contacts from the cloud.
Unknown: I could if I’d bothered to back them up.
Unknown: Damn. I really thought this was my brother’s number.
I’m wide awake now and have zero self-control, so the smart-ass in me writes back.
Me: Exactly how many brothers do you have that you can’t remember their numbers?
Unknown: 50ish?
