Yeah, yeah. We’re well aware of his fuckability. No need to remind us. I snatch the note back from Charice and grab my phone to take a picture. I send it to him even though it’s the middle of the night and he’s probably asleep.
You.
How dare you?
Surprisingly, the three dots appear almost at once.
Sounds like you probably deserved it.
For making people think they left instruments inside other people or something.
I will pay you back for this.
I am still the reigning king. Pay homage at my throne.
I had security up here and everything!
??
I hate you.
He sends a picture of his puppy-dog face, and I melt immediately. He’s so frickin’ cute.
Tug!
Why are you even awake?
Masturbating
I snort, but that single word conjures up images of naked Asher—not something that will help this pain in my chest go away.
Ew. Don’t be extra.
Can’t sleep.
Probably a guilty conscience for doing evil things.
Guilty conscience for something, that’s for sure.
Hmm. Wonder what he means by that.
“Doctor Mattox,” says a nurse at the end of the hall.
“Yeah?”
“Room nine has agreed to a section.”
I chuckle. “But that’s not natural!”
She shrugs. “I think she’s decided modern medicine might benefit her.”
I have to go, but you watch yourself. I’m coming for you.
His last text of the night is the meme of Homer disappearing into the hedge. I release a soft laugh, then scroll up to his puppy-dog face, losing myself for a moment. The pain deep in my chest tugs a bit harder than normal, and I shove my phone into my pocket. Out of sight, out of mind.
But the softness of his voice floats back to me. My head resting on his heart, camera clicking, he spoke the words just for me, like he knew how overwhelmed I was standing in his arms. Like he understood my confusion in wanting to stay there.
I’m sorry it hurts.
