Me: Fuck you. May you catch your fucking dick in your zipper.
Chance: Dude, don’t joke about that shit.
Me: Who’s joking?
Chance: You’ll be fine. Charlie’s fun.
Me: If you’re a sadist.
Chance: Actually, if you’re a masochist. She’d be the sadist.
Me: Jesus, you think just like her.
Chance: You’re not wrong, but you love me anyway.
Me: Yeah, well, just don’t expect roses on Valentine’s Day.
Chance: Baby, you never buy me flowers anymore.
Me: Cute.
Chance: You’ll have fun. Just don’t fuck her.
I froze with my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Not going to lie, if it didn’t promise pain, definite stalking, and starring in a future episode ofSnapped… nah, not even then.
Me: …
Chance: Confirm asshole. No fucking my baby sister.
Huh, seemed like he was getting mad.
Me: …
Chance: Listen, fucker… DO. NOT. FUCK. MY. SISTER.
Definitely mad. So, there was an upside this weekend. No peace for me, but then none for him either.
Me: …
Chance: Remember… you have a sister too.
Only How
Me: Who will do everything possible to be abroad for every family ski trip for forever. Plus, she hates military guys. You’d have a better shot at getting my pants which I have to say… is never going to happen. It’s not you—it’s me
Chance: When I get my hands—
I didn’t bother reading the rest of his message and instead whipped out the finale with a smile on my face.
Me: Now that you’re just as miserable, peace out. And guy, really? I know the code. Besides, if I were planning to fuck one of your sisters, it would be Eve.
Chance: I don’t like how you dropped her name like you had it in your head, ready to go.
Me: Later, dude.
I climbed out of my SUV, ignored the demon spawn, and circled around to the hatch to grab my bag. I’d hold on to it until I was in my room. Preferably on the opposite side of the resort.
She propped her bag against my back tire and leaned on my car. “We need to talk.”
