"I'm texting that number. I bet it's your first new follower," she responded without a blink. "Besides, don't you want to know how he found you online? Or what he looks like? Paper lips or double-stacked pillows? If he's packing a bazooka or a hotdog?" And there she goes in that direction. It's like she falls into a hole. "Oh, Gawd." I rubbed my forehead. "I don't care what he looks like. And, for fuck's sake, no dick pics. How are you so comfortable contacting a stranger?" "Wouldn't be the strangest conversation I've had," she murmured. "Trust me, I'm running interference for you. I swear if it's that Hotdog Hip-thruster, I'll make sure he never bothers you again." "Huh" I took the note back. It was creased from being balled up, with scratched handwriting like it was written in haste. You sure know how to make an impression. No name, theirs or mine. Either extremely sweet, sarcastic, or creepy as fuck. The phone number had our area code, but I didn't recognize the rest of it. "No response. I sent some of my best dick threats." With her phone up to her ear, she mouthed, "Ringing." The way my heart pounded harder in the seconds we waited, it wanted to leap out of my chest. How was she so calm? Her only reaction was a slight purse of her lips. "Voicemail." Harper hung up, then gave my phone a wary look. "Couldn't be Jake, could it?" "I don't know." I shrugged. "We could call him." Within the first ring, she reached him all right. Her expression morphed to complete disgust. "Jake, if you're having sex in your car again, then I hope for Elle's sake you spray Lysol and Febreeze before we pick it up." One of my hands clamped over my mouth. Her light blue eyes flashed and her voice hardened with sarcasm, "No. No. Fuck no! I'd rather give myself a lobotomy with a battery-dead dildo. Go pass your drunk ass out in a ditch somewhere, or better yet, in front of the nearest In-N-Out drive-thru." My stomach twitched at her mentioning the best fast-food burgers ever. It was probably settled down, but I wasn't going to risk ruining the place for me. What would the worst food be to throw up? Blueberries. I bet it's that. Murder blazed in Harper's eyes. "Listen, dick for brains. Are you or any of your shitty friends playing a joke on Elle? Her phone's blowing up here. Hmm… right." Not Jake's fault. She twisted her lips to one side. "Is it one of your dickhead friends?" Her eyes narrowed. "And by a friend, I mean Meade. No, I don't want to talk to him. Huh. Right. Okay, stop talking. Remember, community service. Wrap it before you tap it." Harper hung up with a huff and shook her head. With her chin dipped down, I couldn't read her expression as she studied her phone. I turned my phone in my hand, frowning at some girls now following me. "That's a new low for Kieran if he did." "I didn't get anywhere, but why don't you call the number?" Harper suggested. "Alright." Unlike her attempt, mine was answered. Technically, it was picked up by light breathing, so I prompted, "Hello? I know you're there, breathing, whoever you are." Silence greeted me, then a low-toned voice chuckled. "Baby, I hope you haven't forgotten me already." "Huh?" I grunted and sat upright. "Who is this?" The voice repeated the line while I gawked at Harper. Except for low and laced with confidence, it didn't sound like Jake's voice or one of his friends. No one dared to speak suggestively to me without fear of him rearranging their intestines. My throat dried as if I swallowed half the beach's sand. It strained my voice thin and weak, "Whoever you are, stop pushing my buttons." "You're lucky you're cute," the calm male voice continued. His low husk permeated testosterone into my brain. "But don't worry, baby. You can push all my buttons." "Unless one of those buttons is an off-switch, no thanks." I frowned at Harper's curious smile. "Who the hell is this!?" He dismissed me with another passive response, "Someone who wants to see you again." Again. The word burned into my brain. Again. He was one of the Salesian jerks. "Baby, the question you should ask is how are my feet?" I sucked in my next breath with a squeak. He was, specifically… oh no. Oh gosh no. Not him. This was horrific. Awful. I would not live this down. Bury me in the sand and let the crabs pick me to pieces. Heat rushed into my cheeks and I cupped my hand over my mouth. I shook my head on repeat at Harper, and my mouth opened and closed with a response. What could I say? "Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry." "Good. I was afraid I'd rendered you speechless," his voice dripped with arrogance and self-assurance. While confidence was attractive, this jerk was a total, stomach-flipping turn-off. "I have that effect on girls." My apology was ruined. Was he serious? "And don't be sorry," Mystery Perv mused a few tones lower. "Make it up to me, baby." I cringed at the word 'baby.' Hearing it was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. Make it up? While our encounter slotted itself up to the most embarrassing moment of my seventeen years, he should've run for the hills with the rest of his herd. Why was he contacting me? Doesn't matter. Time to shut his cocky ass down. "Stop calling me baby!" My eyes squeezed so tight, tiny white spots burst into the blackness. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I swear if I ever see you-" "Wish granted." His low chuckle hummed in my ear. His first normal voice. Deep and rich, it sounded pleasant, until he said, "I'm right behind you." Oof. Maybe he'll be sweet in-person?🤔 (wp_still_just_me)