It’s not a shitty question.
IDK. I guess part of it is it was easy.
Family business, you know. And it pays well.
I like working with Pop and Reed, too.
And I don’t know what else I’d do
What about art?
She posted really cool artwork she’d done on Insta and Tumblr. Digital stuff and stuff with actual paints and pastels, charcoals and pencils. Digitally, she had an interesting, quirky style, like watercolor anime. They were cute. She also did watercolor and pastel landscapes he really liked. In charcoal and pencil, though, holy shit. She did photo-realistic pencil sketches that rocked his world.
Zach considered himself decent with an art pencil or a paintbrush. But Lyra’s pencil work was actual art.
Not really the starving artist type.
And I’m not that good
I beg to differ. That sketch of the
sweating glass? Fuck. Me.
LOL. Is that an invitation or a command?
Zach stared at that last text for a long time. They’d been texting, and occasionally FaceTiming, every day since he’d left Laughlin. Weeks. No question he was falling for her, but neither of them had made any strong move toward sex stuff. He’d made a couple of soft moves, and they’d all fallen flat, like she hadn’t caught his meaning, and he’d let it go. He’d built up this little fantasy in his head of getting back to Laughlin and just grabbing her and kissing the shit out of her before he tossed her over his shoulder and found somewhere to fuck her cross-eyed. In said fantasy, Lyra was very much all in on the whole deal.
He’d been jacking off to that fantasy on the regular.
But with a seven-word question, she had just taken the bull by the horns. So to speak. All turns from there led to Sexville, as far as he could see. And he hadn’t realized he’d been setting her up! No intentional double entendre from him.
How to respond? And quickly, before his silence became rhetorical. He decided onWhat do you want it to be?
CHAPTER TEN
What do you want itto be?
Lyra stared at Zach’s latest message and felt adrenaline begin to swirl through her chest. WHY? She’d tried to make a dumb joke, and now, after weeks of easy talk and gentle flirting, she’d just dumped Zach and herself out of a moving car, right at the edge of the red-light district.
Her stupid mouth. Fingers. Whatever.
WHY?
Well, she probably knew that answer. Because she’d been growing increasingly restless, getting to know Zach, liking him more and more,likinghim more and more, and her libido had apparently decided to take over texting responsibilities.