Page 61 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

I’ve thought about texting Beau a zillion times. I’ve opened my messages with him, typed “hi,” and quickly deleted it more often than I’d like to admit. I never dared to fantasize that he’d ever text me.

I read it again. Are you still hiding from us? He’s making fun of me, right? Telling me that he hasn’t forgotten my secret or the humiliating way it came out.

But if he was making fun of me, why would he text me alone, without the other guys?

I have to answer it. Ignoring it might be the safest option, but if there’s the tiniest chance he’s reaching out to me because he’s curious about my feelings, I won’t be able to live with myself brushing it off.

It takes me a good five minutes to compose my answering message.

Brinley

I’m hiding from how loud you are. I can’t focus on my book with you all screaming.

There. It’s not fawning or pathetic and girly. If he’s reading my text out loud to the other guys, there’s nothing embarrassing.

Beau

Wow. I’m surprised we’re enough to stop you from reading.

I’m surprised a hurricane would stop you, the way you stick your nose in books.

I blink. Has Beau noticed that? Has he noticed…me? I can picture him saying the same thing with a warm smile. The smile he always gives the other boys but rarely unleashes on me.

Thinking of that smile makes me type an answer quickly, before I overthink it.

Brinley

A hurricane would stop me if it got the pages wet.

Beau

I’m not convinced. I saw you walk into a wall once when you were reading.

My face heats. That can’t be possible. I mean, it’s something I’ve done a few times in my life, but never in front of Beau. At least, I don’t think so.

Brinley

No, you didn’t.

Beau

Don’t be embarrassed. It was cute :)

I read it once, twice, a dozen times. The word makes me feel like I’m floating. “Cute.” No guy has ever called me that, unless I count my father. Unless Beau doesn’t mean “cute” that way. Maybe he means “cute” the way you talk about an orphaned baby deer. But that smiley face is definitely flirty…right?

While my thumbs are frozen over the reply button, Beau sends another text.

Beau

Look, we’re gonna leave soon, so you’ll get your peace and quiet.

But if you’re free later, maybe we could meet up at Mocha Mart?

My mind whirls. This can’t be real, can it? There’s no way Beau would ever seriously want to hang out with me. A flirty text with your friend’s younger sister for attention makes sense. But there’s no way Beau would seriously want to hang out with me…would he?

Brinley

Who do you mean by “we?”