Page 85 of Revv

Cece: Friday. Six a.m. Be ready or I’m leaving your ass.

Me: You’d come back.

Cece: No, I’d send you a picture of me in the tiniest bikini from Miami.

Me: Now that is just cruel.

Cece: Bring my coffee.

Me: And breakfast?

Cece: Obviously.

Me: Look at you already ordering your man around.

Cece: You are not my man.

Me: Keep practicing. Almost sounded convincing.

Cece: Puta madre. Six o’clock, cabrón.

Me: Can’t wait.

Cece: I can.

Me: Liar. See you Friday, mami.

Cece: I hate you.

Me: Pack extra panties.

Cece: GET FUCKED.

I lock my phone, grinning like an idiot.

Miami. Just me and Cece in her little death-trap car, arguing for four hours while she pretends she isn’t excited I’m coming.

Fuck yes.

She can call me hired muscle all she wants but by the end of the weekend, she’s going to know one time didn’t get me out of her system.

It only made the problem worse.

For once, getting suspended feels like a fucking reward.

Chapter Nine

Cece

“You’re folding that wrong.”

Bexley looks down at the baby blue bikini tangled between her hands, turns it over like a second angle might help, then looks back at me with the kind of patience usually reserved for toddlers and drunk people.

“It’s six strings and two triangles, Cece. There is no right way to fold this.”

“There absolutely is. You’re twisting the bottoms into the top.”

“Yeah, because they’re basically the same piece of dental floss.”