My cheeks burn as if he’s standing before me.
Bea: Surprise me.
Baby Daddy: Hmm…like surprises, do you?
Bea: No, I usually hate them.
Baby Daddy: I like proving you wrong. Do you remember when you didn’t want to be anywhere near me?
Bea: Yeah, and look where that got me.
Baby Daddy: Eating banging takeout and messaging the hottest player in the NHL.
Bea: Modest as ever, I see.
Baby Daddy: Just the way you like me.
Bea: I never said I liked you.
31
EVERETT
“Who ya texting?” Killer asks when he drops into the lounger beside mine and offers me another beer.
I shake my head.
“You don’t want another?” he asks, looking confused.
“No, I’m good. I’m planning on driving home.”
His frown deepens. “Right, okay. So I shouldn’t be asking if you want to continue on after here, then?”
“Not tonight,” I state, my eyes on my cell, waiting for another message to come through.
“You already got plans? Maybe with the girl you’re messaging.”
“No. And who says I’m messaging a girl? It could be Linc or Parker.”
He barks a laugh. “I’d be very concerned if you were messaging Linc or Parker with a silly little smirk on your face. I know that look, and it’s not one you give your sister.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, getting annoyed that she isn’t replying.
“Who is it?” he asks, leaning closer.
I quickly hit the side button, putting my cell to sleep. There is no fucking way he’s reading those messages. Or more so, the name I’ve got Bea stored as in my phone.
“No one.” My chest tightens with the lie.
Bea isn’t no one. She’s…she’s someone.
I rub my chest, hoping to reduce the ache, but it does nothing.
“You’re totally messaging someone.”
“Well, I’m not sitting here talking to myself.”
“True. That’s more of a Monroe thing to do.”
