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“Yes, Momma,” we both said.
“Good.” She held up a whole bag of Dum Dums! “You can each have one every night after supper until they run out.”
I went home happy that night. I might not have a dog, but I had a smiling momma and a Dum Dum every night.
And we never saw Meanie at the food pantry again.
Chapter Thirty
I leave for the day at six p.m., earlier than normal, but I want to see Skye. I’ve been thinking about her and the cornfield and the food pantry the better part of the afternoon. Plus, I want to fuck her. I really want to fuck her.
As Christopher drives me to her place, I absently pull up Instagram.
Skye has apparently taken my advice and turned her profile to public.
And it’s taken off.
She responded to a comment asking about her lip color on the post I’d tagged her in at the gala.
@krissmith4009: @stormyskye15 your lip color is gorgeous!
@krissmith4009 Glad you like it. It’s Susanne lip stain in Cherry Russet.
The selfie of Skye and Tessa has also exploded.
You look gorgeous! Beautiful ladies.
Wowza!
Who’s your friend? You’re both hot as hell.
And then—
You’re so lucky to be Braden Black’s girlfriend! #envious
I go rigid.
Apparently, Instagram thinks that Skye Manning is my girlfriend.
Oddly, I don’t hate the idea.
Christopher pulls in front of Skye’s building, and I call her.
“Hi, Tess,” she says into the phone.
“It’s not Tess.”
“Hi,” she says, her voice a bit breathless.
“I see you’re gaining quite a following,” I say.
“Yeah. It’s pretty weird.”
“Get used to it.”
“I’ll try. I can always put my account back to private.”
“You can,” I say, “but you won’t.”
