My Wrong Number

Texting the wrong number never felt so right.

It started with a not-so-innocent text that I meant to send to the guy I was casually seeing. Things were moving slowly, and I decided it was time to spice things up.

Me: I need you to come over. I want to feel you inside me.

Him: Who is this?

Me: Indy. Who’s this?

Him: Wrong number.

Me: Oh crap. I’m sorry.

Him: I’m not. What’s your address?

Now, I have to decide whether I want to block him and text the guy I meant to in the first place. Or decide to do something outrageously bold and tell him to come over.

Me: . . .

© 2024 R.L. Kenderson (Hljóðbók): 9798882362705

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Hljóðbók: 12 juni 2024