Page 53 of Praised
Me: You’ve been telling me all about praise and yes, sir and all of that and I don’t think you’ve really shown me everything that entails.
He was slower to reply, and I waited until my nerves convinced me I’d said the wrong thing. I shoved my phone into my pocket and grabbed my bag from the locker in the back of the restaurant, said goodnight to Ashley, and slipped out into the alley where I’d parked. Fumbling around my things, I slid into the driver’s seat and locked the door behind me, staring down at my phone and waiting for an answer.
When it didn’t come, I sent one myself
Me: Did I say something wrong?
His answer came fast as lightning, followed by another.
Flynn: NO.
Flynn: I’m just trying to be mindful of what I put between us.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I closed my eyes and waited for him to explain. It took two more messages from Cody and a heavy nervousness that washed away any sort of excitement or hope I’d felt about Flynn until he answered.
Flynn: Do you work tomorrow?
Me: Not until 5
Flynn: Come over.
Me: And what? You never answered my question.
Flynn: Come over, Rose.
He sent me his address and I didn’t even bother trying to pretend I wasn’t going to do what I was told. I copied it into my maps and headed toward the part of town I’d never be able to afford. The whole drive, Cody’s messages echoed around my head, and I called Drake, hoping for a distraction.
When he answered the phone, it was loud, like he was at a bar or club, but he yelled at me to hold on and then after a beat, the background noise quieted down.
“Can you hear me?” Drake asked.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said again. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you’ve been weird ever since you met that rich guy and I wanted to make sure he didn’t fifty shades you.”
I laughed at the statement. Flynn definitely wanted to do some fifty shades shit with me, but not in theCriminal Mindskind of way that Drake was thinking about.
“He’s fine. I’m going to send you his address, by the way, because I’m going over there tonight.”
“Stranger danger. Proud of you.”
“He’s hardly a stranger at this point,” I said.
“What’s his favorite color? His favorite movie?” Drake asked. “Do you even know his last name?”
“Judging by his house, it’s gray.” I chuckled at my own little inside joke. “I don’t know the rest, but I do know what his face looks like when he comes if you want that description for the memory book.”
“I’d rather hear about that one in person.”
It briefly got louder in the background of the call before quieting down again.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I’m at The Cathouse,” he said. “Went out onto the patio to make sure you didn’t need to be saved like the damsel in distress you are.”
