Mr. Wrong Number

TWO WEEKS LATER

Mr. Wrong Number: Did you know that I picture you naked like 24/7? I can’t stop myself. It’s becoming problematic.

I laughed and pulled the blanket up under my arms. I texted: Same. The other day I think your mother saw me staring right at your . . .

Mr. Wrong Number: Yes, baby, say it.

My breath caught, and I almost dropped the phone as I giggled. I rolled over so I was facing him and typed: You want me to text it? Or would you rather have me whisper it?

“Whisper. Now.” Colin held out his hand for my phone, an eyebrow raised and an intriguing look in his eyes.

Instead of handing it over, I tossed it onto the floor and said, “I keep telling Mr. Wrong Number I don’t need him anymore but he just won’t let me go.”

He tossed his phone beside mine and rolled on top of me. “Can you blame him? When you find your perfect Misdial, you can’t let her go.”

I felt his words pulse through my veins like thick honey. I whispered, “I love you, Mr. Wrong Number.”

Colin kissed the tip of my nose. “I love you, too, Miss Misdial.”