Sex On The Seats (Love After Midnight Book 4) by Elise Faber

Author:Elise Faber [Faber, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elise Faber
Published: 2021-04-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Niki

The text happened, just as he’d promised.

The second text.

Since I’d purposely ignored the first text.

But that second buzz-buzz one hour and twelve minutes after the first—not that I was counting or anything—had me releasing my mouse and picking up my cell.

The first text had been:

Since I know you’re going to ignore this . . .

And that was it.

Just “. . .” and leaving me on the hook for the second half of the sentence while I counted, didn’t count? Did? I sighed. Okay, had counted. I’d gotten markedly little work done because I’d been clocking the minutes passing on that tiny clock in the upper right side of my computer.

Which meant I’d spent the last hour and twelve minutes being absolutely useless.

I quickly unlocked the screen, not wanting to see the preview, wanting to actually click on that green icon with the red bubble at its corner.

Because . . .

Why?

I didn’t even know. I didn’t understand why I’d stayed last night, why I felt this unrelenting urge to spend time with Archer, why I’d stayed that morning, why I was anticipating his text so much, even now.

I was a buoy in the ocean.

Alone, bobbing up and down, not lonely because I spent my life doing my job, and even though it was a job that most people probably didn’t think of, it was still one that was important.

Predicting tsunamis.

Taking down bad guys.

Equal importance, right?

Shaking my head at my idiocy, I decided that I was going to focus less on the why, less on the inevitable end. Instead, I was going to live right now, right in this moment.

Probably stupid.

But . . . I’d spent a lot of my life being smart. I could take some time to be stupid, especially when it involved a man like Archer.

And also, I was tired of being that isolated buoy. I was tired of being alone and distant. I wanted . . . well, perhaps it was time I moved beyond my rules, that I took down the barbed wire. Because . . .

Archer was pretty fucking great.

Even if I still had the niggling in the back of my mind, my parents’ voices and my self-doubt in the collective, telling me it was inevitable that I’d fuck this up.

Maybe—

My cell buzzed again, reminding me I hadn’t read the message.

Which meant it was time to look at the text.

I clicked the green box, tapped his message chain . . .

Burst out laughing.

And you’ll probably ignore this . . .

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