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‘We’ll need to figure out the details, but it’ll be good to have it done.’
Good to have it done.
What a way to describe marriage.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
VALENTINA
Turning on the bed, I smiled sweetly at my laptop while toying with my hair. Names pinged in the chat, every one making my heart drop as it failed to be Logan.
Footguy messaged, begging me to join him in a private chat. I’d been avoiding him, knowing I couldn’t see if Logan popped up when I wasn’t in the open chat and Footguy had been losing himself with every excuse I gave.
With a sigh, I opened up his DM and started typing.
A ping had my eyes dashing to the edge of my screen, my heart all but stopping as ScotsDaddy38 popped up.
Crossing off the DM, I double-clicked on Logan. Maybe waiting would have been more ladylike, less desperate, but I didn’t care. I’d waited for days on nothing but a hope and I wasn’t going to let him go that easily.
You’re here.
There was a delay before he responded.
I am. I couldn’t stay away.
I hoped you’d come back.
I shouldn’t be here.
I’m glad you are.
Me too.
I heard about the wedding date.
I’d cried for a solid hour when I heard they’d moved the date forward. It seemed too quick.
They informed me when I got back from Rosenhall. It’s probably for the best.
It wasn’t for the best. He was being a prize idiot.
Can we talk?
Baby girl, I think that’s a bad idea.
Just talking. As friends. I think that should be okay.
The dots bounced on my screen before his reply popped in.
Fine. As friends. No naughty stuff.
I rang through with a private call to him, ignoring the numbers racking up on Footguy’s DM box.
‘Hey,’ I said, smiling as his face popped up, no longer needing to keep me from seeing him. Dark circles ringed his eyes as he propped his phone up on his bedside table, resting his cheek on his arm and facing the camera.
‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he said.
‘Tired eyes. You look exhausted.’
