My lips twist up.
Logan:
Are you telling me Beef Wellington texted me just now?
Savannah:
I’m telling you my idiot cat stole my phone out of my hand while I was typing.
Technically yes, he did send the text.
Logan:
Those extra thumbs really give him an advantage, don’t they?
Savannah:
I guess it’s time to teach him how to spell.
Logan:
Keep him away from your shopping list or you might find yourself wondering how you ended up with eight cases of tuna on your next order.
Savannah:
He did, in fact, chew through a tuna can this week, so that is actuallygood advice.
“Who are you texting?”
I startle, realizing too late that I’m grinning at my phone when I look up and see the curious interest on Moxie’s face. My smile drops. “No one.” That sounds monumentally stupid, but I don’t need him getting in my business. “Just someone who makes meals for me. Not important.”
“Uh huh.” Moxie grabs his phone and starts typing something.
Though I worry about who he’s texting, I focus on my own conversation. Texting Savannah is loads more fun than my captain telling me I’m being benched for trying to help his team.
Logan:
Beef is a legend.
Savannah:
Not great at spelling, but he might already know how to read because he
keeps trying to take my phone. It’s like he knows it’s you on the other end.
I’ve only hung out with her cat a few times, but I can’t argue that he dislikes me. Plus, I’ve started to miss the furball during the week. He’s cuddly and doesn’t expect platitudes and empty praise like my captain apparently does.Beefwants me around, though it seems no one else does.
While I work on coming up with some cheeky response, Savannah sends another text.
Savannah:
You’re being mean to your teammates?
My gaze snaps to Moxie, who lifts an eyebrow in a silent challenge that makes my hackles rise. “How did you—”
The buzz of my phone cuts me off.
Savannah:
