Page 88 of Sexting the Boss
Instead, my fingers are flying over my keyboard.
Me: What if I don’t want the dress?
Unknown Number: You do.
I let out a frustrated noise, tossing my phone onto my bed.
He’s so damn smug.
I glare at the dress like it personally offended me.
Of course I want it.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever touched.
And he knows it.
My phone buzzes again.
Unknown Number: Have you saved my number yet?
I purse my lips, gripping my phone again.
Me: Why would I do that?
Unknown Number: So you don’t have to keep calling me unknown number.
I smirk.
Me: I think it suits you.
His response is immediate.
Unknown Number: Cold, printsessa. Very cold.
I bite my lip, trying not to smile.
Then—
Unknown Number: Be ready by seven on Saturday.
I blink.
Me: For what?
Unknown Number: The charity ball. I’m taking you.
My heart stumbles.
My fingers tighten around my phone as I read the words again.
Me: Like…a date?
Unknown Number: If you want to call it that.
I sputter.
Oh, no.
