AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Then I can tell you about making out with audio boy on a toilet.”
Lennon visibly recoils. Her face twists into something shocked, appalled, and disgusted. The very image ofI hate everything about what you just said.
It pulls a laugh deep from the pit of my belly. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Listen,” Lennon begins. “I’ve read several kinky romance books, and this is still very new. Did you–” Lennon pretends to gag. “Did you like that?”
“The kiss?” I say. “Yes, very much so. I was dying his hair purple. He wasn’t taking a shit or anything.”
Lennon squeaks. “Purple hair? Am I attracted to this?”
I can’t fight the dopey smile on my face. It gives away everything, and I realize that I still haven’t texted Mallory to call off on Tuesday. “He’s so hot, Lennon. But Idohave to go.”
“Okay, okay. I will accost you with questions on Wednesday when we hang out, and I promise to bribe you with wine. Enjoy your ice cream.”
“I will.”
When I hang up, I pull up Mallory’s contact and shoot her a text about Tuesday. I never call off, so it really shouldn’t be a problem.
Finding that I have an overwhelming urge to text Griffin, I remember that we never exchanged numbers. Instead, I thumb my way to the freelance site where I hired him and see that I have a message already there–sent exactly six seconds ago.
Impeccable timing.
GJPAudio:I forgot to give you my number. Any girl who kisses like that should have it.
I pull the phone to my chest like I’m some ridiculousnot like other girlscharacter in a cheesy romantic comedy. The reality isthat I’m very much like other girls. I listen to Taylor Swift, love Target, and went through that weird social media phase where everyone was taking pictures of their food and applying terrible filters.
When I go to look at the message again, it’s gone but quickly replaced by a new one.
GJPAudio:The app flagged my message because I said “kisses.” Here’s my number again.
GJPAudio:Fuck, I said kisses again. It’s going to disappear.
I quickly click on the number and add it to my contacts before typing out a text message. For some reason, nerves rise in the pit of my belly. I am thankful I didn’t try to eat my charcoal toast. I would have probably thrown it up all over my clean counters.
Me:Don’t worry. I got your number.
It doesn’t take long for him to respond to my text, and I find myself giddy–smiling like an absolute idiot and dreading the fact that I have to return to work tomorrow.
Finn:Good, because I can’t send any more messages on the app for twenty-four-hours.
Me:What will that do to all your fantastic ratings?
Finn:They’ll probably disappear, and I’ll be forced to quit music.
Me:But you look so pretty playing piano. I’m going to leave you five stars right now.
There’s a brief pause before he responds again, and I’m left feeling the ghost of his kiss on my mouth. I would do it again.
Finn:You think I’m pretty?
Me:Not sure. I’ll reevaluate on Tuesday.
Finn:Can’t wait.
Seventeen
Griffin
