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But I also hate it.
Can’t we skip to the part where she admits she loves me? Because that ending is inevitable. I cannot exist in a world where Yaya Williams isn’t the love of my life.
“Need a stress ball?” Mosely leans over and pops open the glove compartment. To my surprise, he has enough stress balls in there to fill a small ball pit.
“Is that what you’ll do after retirement? Open a children’s playground?”
“Very funny, sir.” He does not look amused when he tosses the ball at me. “Give your phone a break.”
I squeeze the ball tight. The squishy thing does nothing to calm my nerves.
“I’m guessing Ms. Williams hasn’t called.”
“No.” I leave the ‘and it kills me’ along with the ‘what are your thoughts on stalking’ comments out of my answer. I don’t need any more reasons for Mosely to give me that fatherly look of disappointment.
Trading the stress ball for the phone once more, I raise the device to the car roof in case I’m not getting enough bars.
Is Yaya okay? Did she eat? Did she cry? The comments online have been horrible. It drove me insane seeing people make such terrible and untrue remarks about her.
Which is why I have a team assigned to tracking down the malicious spammers by their IP addresses. I plan on suing them to hell and back.
Since I can’t call her, and showing up at her place right now might be too much as well, my brain immediately gets to problem-solving.
An idea hits.
“Mosely, park for a second.”
“What?”
“Park the car.”
With a befuddled look, Mosely pulls over.
“Now scoot to the side.”
He does, but I can sense his confusion as he moves.
“Okay…” I set my cell phone on the headrest and let it lean against his ear.
“Sir—”
“Don’t move!” I yelp.
Mosely freezes.
With his head as a balancing board, I press the record button and make a video.
“Just checking on you,” I sign. “Text me if you need anything.”
I send the video of me signing and remove the phone from Mosely’s head. “Thank you.”
He gives me the side-eye. “And you wonder why I store so many stress balls.”
I smirk.
At that moment, my cell phone lights up.
It’s an unfamiliar number, but I pick up anyway in case it’s Yaya in an emergency.
