Rob: It’s perfect. You could hide out as a mob member instead of your real self.
Wade: Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now?
Rob: Did you get my package?
Wade: That sounds ridiculously filthy, even for you. Not sure I want to take our friendship to that level.
Rob: (head exploding emoji, tears laughing emoji, tears laughing emoji, skull emoji) I sent you something in the mail, dumbass.
I have to frown over that one. There hasn’t been any mail. The only people who would send me anything are my parents, and they haven’t mentioned putting anything in the mail since I basically just saw them.
Wade: I hope you didn’t put my name on it.
Rob: I’m hurt here. That cut me deep.
Wade: Alright, fine. So you didn’t. Thanks. What package? I haven’t got anything.
Rob: Weird. Should have been there by now. Maybe it got lost in the mail. Whatever. It was just a joke to cheer you up. I just put the address on it.
Wade: Maybe that’s why it didn’t get here. Maybe they screen random packages without actual names for being too suspicious.
Rob: I can only imagine what they thought when they opened it then.
I groan out loud. I can only imagine what I’d think if I opened it. Rob has a sick, dry sense of humor, and I can’t imagine what he thought would cheer me up. Actually, I can imagine, and it makes me shudder.
Wade: I’ll let you know if I ever get it. Here’s to hoping it’s lost forever.
Rob: Someone probably stole it. Perverts. It might be highly desirable to some.
Wade: I think if it shows up, I’ll just burn it on the spot.
Rob: Don’t do it.
I set my phone face down on the table and stare at the wrapped-up pie. I want to see Lu-Anne again, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Actually, I’m sure it’s a horrible idea. But my dick thinks it’s a great idea, and it’s back to stealing blood from my brain. It’s amazing that I can even process any sort of thoughts. All of a sudden, I have a plan. The pie pan. I’ll bring the pie pan and towel back over tomorrow evening. Maybe take a few beers or a bottle of wine over, which would involve actually going out and getting some, but maybe I can handle it.
Not for another kiss. I’m not going over there to try and force her into something she doesn’t want. That’s not my style. Maybe I am going crazy here. Maybe I’m seriously lonely. Whatever the reason, I feel this strange force pulling me over there. And no, I don’t think it’s anything dark or demonic. More likely, it’s my dick acting like a metal detector.
That kiss was amazing. I’m happy without a repeat and just being neighborly, but if Lu-Anne wanted a repeat and told me she did, I know all sorts of radars would be going off, and I wouldn’t be able to say no.
It’s as good a reason as any to stay away, but I already know that come tomorrow evening, I’ll be knocking on her door, a bottle of something alcoholic and her empty pie plate in hand.
CHAPTER 14
Lu-Anne
I am still freaking out the next afternoon, nearly twenty-four hours after the kisstrastrophe meltdown I had. I have shown up on the guy’s doorstep in the middle of the night raving about a spider, stolen his mail, broken into his house, falsely accused him of being a mobster, and ran away after the best kiss I ever received. Wade must think I’m crazy. Even I am starting to think I am becoming a little unhinged after the past few weeks.
What I need is my best friend. Unfortunately, Leanne has a hot date, so I have to settle for texting her.
Lu-Anne: So. Hot date with your history professor? Did you finally just come straight out and tell him you’ve been crushing on him like a psycho for a ridiculously long time now?
Leanne: Ummm, no. It’s not with the history professor.
Well. I assumed hot dates meant it was with the object of passionate lusting. Did she find someone else? I thought she’d been way too busy with school. But honestly, I’ve also been way too busy with—well—stalking Mr. Mob. I mean, Wade. Yes. Wade. He has a name.
Lu-Anne: What’s his name? What’s he like? Why have I not heard about him? Why are you leaving me all alone here to rot? Please! I need a lifeline! Come over! Bring wine!
Leanne: I wish I could, but I’m drowning in papers, research, and books.
Lu-Anne: But you still have time for a hot date?!
Leanne: Sorry. I should have rephrased that. I have a hot date with a guy from my class at the library to do research.
Lu-Anne: Can that still be considered a hot date then? Is it a real date? Are you going to his place after? Or back to yours?