My phone buzzes again.
Before I even touch it, both of their heads snap up like prairie dogs on alert as I flip the phone over.
Trace.
My whole body reacts before I can stop it. Paige’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. Lena bites her lip to hide a smile, but fails instantly.
I open the message.
TRACE:
You left this morning before I could say it.
Just so you know… I’m still thinking about you.
My stomach dips. I should put the phone down. I don’t.
Another message.
TRACE:
And I’m fully aware I’m not supposed to be texting my boss during business hours.
So please consider this a safety update:
I’m not focused on any damn thing out here.
My pulse is doing the absolute most. Lena is already fanning herself with a manila folder.
Another one:
TRACE:
Also… if I had you in my arms right now, I wouldn’t let you leave the bed all day.
I drop the phone face-down so fast it bounces.
Paige chokes on air. Lena starts kicking her feet like a toddler who just got front-row tickets to chaos.
“Oh my God,” Paige wheezes. “Give me ONE enemy who texts me like that, I will marry him on sight.”
Lena throws her hands in the air. “Delta, you are WALKING DIFFERENT for a REASON.”
“I told you!” Paige says, clapping her hands once like she won a game show. “That is not a normal gait, that is a man-just-ruined-your-spine gait.”
“I hate both of you,” I mutter, picking up my pen even though the paper in front of me is upside down.
“You love us,” Lena sings.
“And we love Trace,” Paige adds. His contributions are already changing lives.”
Lena nods solemnly. “If my next man doesn’t text me like that, I don’t want him.”
Paige crosses her legs dramatically. “If my next man doesn’t make me walk into work like I need a chiropractor, I don’t want him.”
I bury my face in my hands. I am laughing, and I am mortified, and I’m glowing in a way I can’t hide.
They lean in together, conspirators.
