The one thing I’m certain of is she immediately called bullshit, then texted her sister to see if that’s true.
“Every word,” I whisper, petting Peach.
I’m smiling as I wait for the next emoji to pop through. Because it will. She’s not shying away from this fun.
Come on ... take the bait. You know you want it.
Ding.
Yes! She never disappoints.
It’s a roach.
Me:Once I ate a chocolate covered one on dare from my sister, Poppy. She didn’t tell me it was a roach tho. She lied and said it was blacklicorice which I hate. Crimson, my oldest sister had bought them from some specialty chocolatier and neither of them wanted to try it so I was dared. I ate one, puked when I realized the truth. Then stole the box, cleaned the chocolate off all the rest and hid them in their shoes and clothes. They hated me for months.
My head swings over my shoulder to the wall behind me because I swear I heard her giggle through the wall.
So I do a little celebratory dance before the ding owns all my attention again.
I chew the inside of my cheek because this time it’s not a reaction. It’s a message withtwoemojis—a parrot and Santa Claus.
“Hmm,” I hum, looking up at the ceiling and trying to recall a memory to match, not that I’m opposed to lying to keep this game going, but it’s more fun if it’s the truth.
A chuckle pops from my chest as I remember my trip to Costa Rica three years ago.
Me:I’m glad you brought this up. I was just thinking about that Christmas in Costa Rica. I’ve never had a better time in my life. It may have been because of all those chiliguaro shots on the last night. But I highly recommend dancing ’til you drop at bonfires on a beach with a parrot on your shoulder like a fucking pirate.
Like Pavlov’s dog, I grin as another ding comes through, and before I know it, we’re four more deep. She’s sending, and I’m answering. It’s heaven. This might be the best nonconversation conversation I’ve ever had.
But I want more. I want to know her. So I try and flip the script.
Me:My turn ... tell me something now. It’s only fair.
I choose an easy one for her to start with.
Me:
Damn, the bubbles stay up forever, but all I get back are Z’s, the ones that mean sleep. A tough nut to crack.
“Sweet dreams, Evie,” I whisper to myself before sending back a half-moon and placing my phone on the nightstand.
“Man,” I breathe out. “I almost had ya.”
Just as I close my eyes, my phone dings.
Evil:Extra towels are in the closet at the end of the hall.
The smile on my face is fucking obnoxious, because you know what? Hell yeah.
Chapter Eight
Chase
It’s been thirty-six hours since Evie and I texted. I’m not even embarrassed I’m counting. We’re already to June 1, so every second matters in the battle of wills. Plus, I think I had more of an impact than I anticipated. She didn’t even insult me yesterday morning ... and she made me coffee today.
Which I’m drinking, sitting on the couch, an uncomfortable leather one, as I listen to Eddie tell me about some girl he hooked up with last night.
“Hear me out ... last night was spectacular. I think I’m in love. So what I’m saying is, I can meet you in about an hour and a halfafterI make a proper cup of tea and say our goodbyes.” I hear the whistle of his kettle go off in the background.
