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Of course Adam stopped and propped his elbow on her counter. “Hey, cutie. How’s reception life?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Rarely a dull moment.” Her eyes were so wide, her forehead was crinkled. “How are you?”
I hooked my arm around his neck. “He’s fine. He has places to be, though. No time to talk. Be good.” I dragged Adam toward the elevator to the sound of Wren’s shaky little laugh at my back. If I stayed in that lobby another second, I would have been draggingheraway instead. As much as that appealed to me, neither of us could stop our lives.
Rodrigo slugged Adam hard in the arm as soon as we were on the elevator. “Don’t call Callum’s girl cutie, man. That’s not cool.”
Adam held his hands up. “It slipped out. No harm meant. I’ve accepted Wren is into the strong, silent type—and that’ll never be me.”
Roddy chuckled. “You’re the loud, jackass type.”
“Motherfucker!” Adam lunged at him, grabbing him in a headlock. They wrestled for all of ten seconds, then the doors slid open on our floor and it was over.
I followed them to the studio, pleased as hell with what had just gone down. My obsession with Wren had been a secret I’d kept close to my vest all these years. No more hiding, though. Those days were done. Wren was mine, and everyone we met would know.
Wren:Hey...are you still working?
Me:Just got home. Are you in bed, Little Bird?
Wren:Yeah. You know me. I’m not a night owl.
Me:Early bird.
Wren:I rise with the sun.
Me:Why’d you stop going by Birdie?
Wren:Jenny still calls me that, but she’s the only one. I just wanted to be someone new once I was out of my parents’ house. Plus, Wren looks a lot better on resumes. Is it weird for you to call me that?
Me:I never thought of you as Birdie. You were always my little bird. But I like Wren. It’s not weird for me at all.
Wren:I’m still getting used to having this kind of access to you...you know, not waiting for your next email for weeks.
Me:Sometimes days or an hour.
Wren:You got better at writing me back the longer we corresponded.
Me:Only because I wanted more of your words in my fucking inbox.
Wren:Well, you’ll have to tell me if I’m bugging you now. I feel like I might want to talk to you all the time.
Me:I’ll tell you right now, you will never bother me. I want all your thoughts and words as much as I want your lips and pussy. Everything. Don’t hold back.
Wren:See? Dirty and sweet.
Wren:Seriously, though, don’t give me free rein. You’re the only man I’ve ever texted like this. I have no established boundaries.
Me:You’re in luck then. I told you before, I don’t even try to conform to arbitrary boundaries and standards some jackasses on the internet deemed as the appropriate amount of time in between texts. I expect you to text me when you want to. I’ll do the same.
Wren:You might have to remind me.
Me:I will. What are you doing?
Wren:Thinking I might sleep soon. You?
Me:Thinking about taking you to the club on Saturday night and watching your cheeks get bright red, hearing your little pants, feeling you squirm in my lap.
Wren:And I bet you’re imagining what the girl will look like…
