Fuck. My cheeks hurt. How is it possible to be this…excited? Is this what liking someone is supposed to feel like? It feels like more. It feels…big.
All in or nothing, Elias.
Me:Okay, don’t call me crazy because I know I’ve missed my chance at the number of kids I want. At my age, I’d be insane to have that many kids now.
Miss Wrong Number:Who cares? If it’s what you want, isn’t that all that matters? You’re 43. You’re not 80. Jeez. How many?
Me:Between six and ten.
Send.
“That was a choice.” I scoff. “Fuck.”
Miss Wrong Number:Interesting.
“Interesting? What does that mean?” I mutter to myself.
Miss Wrong Number:That’s around what I want too.
Miss Wrong Number:Well, whoever you decide to have kids with will be very lucky. Or you can adopt, get a surrogate, you have options.
Me:I have another option I’m considering. I just have to see how these next two weeks go.
Miss Wrong Number:And then you’ll know who you want to be the mother of your children? Two weeks isn’t a lot of time.
Me:They’re the only weeks that matter.
14
OLIVIA
Mr. Wrong Number:Good morning, sweetheart. Thirteen more days. I hope you know I’m in for the long haul.
I grin, smiling at my first text message of the day while sipping my morning coffee. Holding my phone out, I turn my head to take a photo, allowing him to see the messy hair that I have thrown up in a bun on top of my head. Pieces are sticking out everywhere. I’m in an oversized gray crew neck shirt that saysNew Yorkacross the front in big blue block letters.
And he gave me a pet name? How am I supposed to keep myself guarded for these next two weeks when he’s acting like he’s all in?
Maybe he isn’t acting at all…
I press send, take a sip of my coffee, and then my phone blares. Victoria’s name flashes across the screen. I haven’t seen either Victoria or Amber since my birthday; they’ve been busy with work lately and we haven’t had a lot of time to catch up.
“Vic!” I greet, unable to keep the excitement from showing in my voice.
“We are going shopping today. Me, you, Amber, and your mom.”
“My mom? You’ve talked to my mom before I’ve talked to her today?” My phone vibrates and I pull it away from my ear to see that my mystery guy has texted me back with an image.
I put Victoria on speaker so I can click his message open, and I gasp when I see what it is.
“What? What is it?” Victoria screeches. “What’s wrong?”
“What? No, nothing. Nothing at all. I’m not busy. We can definitely go shopping today.”
I can’t believe what I’m looking at.
It’s a box with a cock on the packaging. At the top it reads “Mold me for your deepest desires.”
Mr. Wrong Number:Let me know your address because I’ll be sending this to you. You’ll be fucking yourself with my cock only. Mine. No one else’s. I’m not sure if we made that clear, but the only person you’ll be fucking is me. This is exclusive, sweetheart. No one else gets to have you.
