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Which meant her mother would be having sex. Again. “Great,” Paige said, returning to the sofa and picking up her book, hoping to lose herself in someone else’s misery, but giving up when she realized she’d read almost another ten chapters and still had no idea what the damn novel was about. She closed the book and glanced at her watch. It had been more than two hours since Mr. Right Now’s last text. She glared at her phone, trying to will another message into existence. But none appeared. “You’re worse than Chloe,” she told herself. At least Chloe was mourning the loss of something real, whereas she was pining for a relationship that hadn’t even begun, with a man she hadn’t even met. What was the matter with her? She was a strong, independent woman. The last thing she needed was a man who could be scared off by the word “we.”
And then there it was, as if he’d sensed her growing impatience and was testing her newfound resolve: a message from Mr. Right Now.
Hey, Wildflower.
Paige debated whether to respond.Two can play this game,she thought, her fingers hovering over the phone’s tiny keyboard, her mind ping-ponging between texting him back immediately or making him wait.
Sorry for yet another long delay in getting back to you,the text continued before she could make up her mind.I’m not trying to be coy, I swear. I was able to book a flight to Florida last minute. I’m actually in a limo now, heading for the airport. Hoping to be away only a few days, and really hoping we’ve passed the texting phase and can give this another try, meet up in person one day next week. Anyway, here’s my phone number. Feel free to call me anytime so we can get something definite in the books. Can’t wait to finally meet you.
Paige didn’t hesitate.Have a safe trip,she texted back.Hope all goes well with your mom.
Then, throwing caution to the proverbial wind:Can’t wait to meet you, too.
