Chapter Sixteen

Mike

 

As Jake would say, bloody hell. That woman would be the death of me. Why the hell did I let her leave? Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I collapsed on the sofa, sitting in the dark like a loser. Alone again when I didn’t have to be.

Fucking principles.

Serve me right if she decides to not talk to me again.

I took out my phone. Text her.

Really enjoyed today. When do you have a free night again?

Hannah wouldn’t be in her car, yet. She could reply right away if she wanted. If she wanted to…aha!

Friday night is free, but if I’m too much temptation, shouldn’t we stick to daytime activities?

I can handle you, I replied.

Wish you would.

Second thought, Saturday lunch?

If you wish. Figure it out and let me know.

Talk soon.

I clicked out of Messages, took a swig of beer, and dropped my head back on the sofa. Hadn’t blown it with Hannah, but she was going to make me suffer with her teasing. Any of my friends would say I deserved it.

Twenty minutes later, my phone chimed.

Hannah: Home now. Sweet dreams.

Then a photo of her bare legs on blue sheets.

Yep, definitely going to torture me. It wasn’t the content of the photo—which was perfectly decent (she was probably wearing shorts)—but the suggestion in context. Very photogenic legs. Her bed. My imagination would do the rest and she knew it.

How far would she go before I broke?