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“Long story.”
“No.”
“You could come to my house.”
“No.”
“I have towels.”
“No.”
“A shower.”
My jaw tightens.
Her smile turns wicked. “And I already know your dick survived the coffee.”
“Chaos.”
“What?”
“Stop talking about my dick.”
She leans closer. Her voice drops. “I haven't even started.”
My body reacts instantly. Of fucking course it does.
Maybe Bishop should've kept me grounded.
Callie's phone buzzes. She looks down at it. Then her brows draw in. “Wait.”
I don't like the way she says that. “What?”
She taps her phone.
“Callie.”
She ignores me. Her thumb moves across the screen.
My pulse kicks.
I crane my neck and peek at her phone.
No.
She opens Instagram.
No.
Her Story.
Fuck.
Then the viewer list.
I already know what she'll see. james_miller4729.
I was looking at her Story when we collided.
