Hell, I’d settle for him wanting my Netflix password.
I blow out a huff.
He won’t.
That much is obvious.
Still, my stubborn brain whispers, just five more seconds.
Nothing.
A camera clicks nearby, and my shoulders tense. Not the paps. Just two teenage girls snapping a selfie.
Then they look my way.
Uh-oh.
I pivot fast.
Travis clocks it instantly. He steers me to the back seat and opens the door without a word.
I slide in.
He shuts it, circles to the front, and suddenly, it’s over.
Deflated, I stare back at the terminal and sigh like someone just popped my last balloon.
Here’s the thing.
I’m not delusional.
I know when a man is into me.
And that man?
He was into me like peanut butter in a Reese’s cup.
Or is that just wishful thinking?
Just because an innocent bystander has a mild reaction to a tongue down his throat doesn’t mean anything.
I glance back one last time.
He’s not interested in you. Give it up.
Ugh. I shake my head, then fish my phone out of my backpack.
I shove the big grizzly lumberjack out of my brain, ready to give Travis the address to the Evans’ place, when my phone lights up and pings like a pinball machine.
A text from Kali and several back-to-back ones from Myra. Kali first. At least she makes me smile.
Wild Kard
You’re checking into The Barrington under Viviana Kent.
The Barrington. I’m not sure Myra could get more pretentious if she tried.
Me
