Page 89 of Give In
Me:I can’t come over, I have plans.
His response was instantaneous.
DC:With who?
Me:When did you add your number to my phone?
DC:Last night. With who?
Me:There’s a password on my phone.
DC:Touch ID. And you sleep like the dead. With who?
Me:DC makes me think of the comic universe.
DC:Maybe I should’ve put my contact as Superman.
I snorted.
Me:Bruce Wayne! He’s a bossy asshole, right? Oh, no, I know. The Joker. You and he have a lot of the same stalker, batshit insane personality traits.
DC:Good point. Does that make you my Harley Quinn?
It wasn’t the first time he’d called me his, but seeing the possessive claim in black and white made it harder to ignore.
Can’t keep rereading it and smiling like a moron if I delete it.
I pressed the text and then hovered my finger over the little trash can icon before hitting cancel.
Weak.
Me:No, I’m more Commissioner Gordon.
DC:Usually I like to be the one wielding the handcuffs, but we can switch things up.
Me:You’re delusional.
DC:Who’re your plans with?
My eyes skimmed from my vibrator to the stack of romance books I’d gotten from the library despite knowing I’d have no time to read any of them. It was immature as hell, but I couldn’t resist messing with him.
Me:Someone who doesn’t try to boss me around all the damn time.
I got up and picked out my clothes for the day, grinning the whole time. My phone dinged as I was about to head to the shower.
DC:So someone who won’t get you off.
DC:Just do what I say for once. Get the damn key and meet me at my place.
My eyes narrowed as I reread his message, getting more pissed each time. All the cockiness. The assholeness. The bossiness.
The correctness.
Me:Go ‘luck’ yourself.
Chapter Twenty
Enthusiastic Researcher
