Page 150 of Glitched Play

He doesn’t. He’s contemplating what to say. I know that look.

“I will.”

“Just make sure to get cute colors. I can see the women in your family changing margarita night to your place.”

Rubbing his fingers over the stubble on his jaw, he considers it. “You’re right. No oxygen bar,” he says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Before I truly got to know him, I didn’t know how to take his little remarks. But now, I understand that’s how he communicates with people. If he wasn’t sarcastic, he wouldn’t be Witt. That’s how he disarms people, especially his brothers.

His fingers play with mine and as he leans into kiss me again, I yawn. Not a petite yawn, a full on Pteranodon yawn, mouth as wide as it will open without coming unhinged.

Amusement plays in Witt’s eyes.

“I should probably…”

He raises a brow.

“Sorry, I guess the adrenaline has worn off.”

“I need to work on being romantic,” he whispers.

I yawn again and have to shake my head to make it go away.

“Witt, kissing me in front of everyone and then carrying my heels for me is romantic. You don’t have to try. You already are.”

How does this man think he needs to level up his romance skills?

“Do you mind if I go to bed?” I ask, almost apologetically.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead he takes that half step, closing the short distance between us. We’re so close that the warm hint of his cinnamon breath floats over my skin.

“Only… if it’s with me.”

“I thought you would never ask.”

thirty

. . .

Maci

Letter 88 Rune

I wish I could figure out how to show my parents what I do. I realized at my sister’s game today that they didn’t used to know anything about soccer but now they do. I wish there was a way…

Sunlight filters through black, mesh solar shades, flickering a soft gold across the sheets. I stretch, instinctively reaching for the warm body beside me before my hand lands on cool cotton.

I glance at the clock.

Six twenty-three.

He's probably already at SGI after his morning workout. It’s hard to believe how happy I am. How lucky I am, and I owe it to Chase. He convinced me to apply to SGI again.

Rolling onto my back, I grab my phone from the nightstand.

Forty-three notifications.

Thirty-nine are from one group text.