Jesus.
I gave himeverything else,but not my number? I unlock my phone and open Prism.
Me: So uh… do I get your number now or do I have to blow you in the locker room again?
I stare at it. Debate deleting it. Hit send anyway.
Logan’s reply comes back less than thirty seconds later.
SlowBurn69: Tempting offer. But I’m trying to behave. I’ve got a secret to keep.
I bite back a laugh and shift in my seat.
Me: I did say I’d text you when I got to class. It would have been easier if I had your phone number.
I bite back a laugh and shift in my seat, elbowing Daniel as he tries to lean over and peek at my screen.
“Don’t you have a titration to mess up?” I mutter.
Daniel smirks. “I knew you were texting them. Is that Prism?”
“Shut up.”
SlowBurn69: You already have access to all the good parts.
Why ruin it with something as boring as a contact name?
Me: Because it’s hard to think of sexting you under ‘SlowBurn69’ when I’m holding a burette.
SlowBurn69: Sounds like a you problem.
But now I’m picturing you in goggles, blushing, trying not to get hard in front of your lab partner.
Shit.
I absolutely am.
I adjust in my seat and clear my throat, trying to look like I’m focused on the flask in front of me and not the growing heat under my skin.
Me: You’re evil.
SlowBurn69: You like it. And you didn’t deny it.
Before I can reply with something flirty, my phone lights up again.
SlowBurn69: Now be a good boy and pay attention. I’ll see you at practice.
I stare at those words way too long.
Good boy.
They shouldn’t make my mouth go dry or my pulse stutter behind inside my throat. But it does.
Me: Say it again.
A beat. Two.
SlowBurn69: Good. Boy.
