Can I Come Over?(7)



I was her designated driver to and from the airport, the guy who showed up on a few beach trips here or there, and nothing more.

Jesus Christ.

I scrolled through the last few pictures—not feeling the slightest tinge of attraction, and returned his phone. “I’m not interested in any of them.”

“None?” His eyes widened. “Not even Sarah with the big smile and breasts? Even my wife likes Sarah.”

I didn’t even notice Sarah. “I’m sure.”

“Well, if you’re not going to take me up on any more blind dates—which would be your loss, by the way, why not ask out that Essays & Mail woman?”

“It’s Words & Letters.” I rolled my eyes, giving up all hope of ever finding the remote. “And I’ll pass. I just enjoy talking to her. I’m not trying to do anything else.”

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugged. “I mean, she’s probably fucking hideous since she’s been hiding behind a screen all this time, but you talk to her often, right?”

“I do.”

“Then go for it,” he said. “Ask her.”

I pulled out my phone, willing to do anything for a distraction at this moment. The second I logged into the app, I noticed that Bella had reached out to me, but it wasn’t a letter. It was via the instant-message feature we hardly ever used, the one that limited the number of words and wasn’t conducive to sending our usual letters.

Instant Message from Bella: I need you to tell me exactly how you’d fuck me…

Okay. I’m living in the fucking Twilight Zone today. I put my phone away and sighed.

“She’s not online yet,” I said. “I’ll ask her when I get home, so I can think about when and where we should meet first.”

“Great idea,” he said. “Now, promise me that whenever you finally realize that she’s a fraud who’s pretending to be someone else, or a gold-digging scammer that you’ll let me know. Okay?”

I didn’t get a chance to respond to that.

One of his oldest toddlers—Jason, ran into the room, screaming at the top of his lungs. His diaper was full of shit, but he suddenly stopped in front of me and smiled.

Laughing, he dug into the back of his dirty diaper and pulled out the remote.

“I’m going the hell home now.”





FIVE





Ryan/Dane





Later that evening





I reopened the instant messenger on Words & Letters to make sure that I’d read Bella’s latest note properly and wasn’t imagining things.

Instant Message from Bella: I need you to tell me exactly how you’d fuck me…

Nope. It was just as I’d seen it, but after receiving that letter from Daniella earlier, I was convinced that she was still holding her phone hostage somehow. She was probably still hanging out with her, so I waited for a few hours to respond. Until I was certain that she was home.

Instant Message from Me: Is this some type of game between you and your friend? Bait me into saying some shit so you can see if I’m ‘hiding something’? (Is this even you typing this?)

Instant Message from Bella: This isn’t a game at all, I promise. The reason I haven’t finished My Hot Neighbor is because I’ve been struggling to finish writing the pivotal sex scene, but I don’t think I can put off publishing it anymore. I lied about the extensions, by the way…

Instant Message from Bella: This is definitely me. Proof: Two months ago, we had a heart to heart about your cheating ex-wife and all my terrible ex-boyfriends. We deleted those letters and agreed that they never happened. They didn’t.

I tapped my fingers against the table and tried to figure out what the hell was going on in the universe tonight.

Hours ago, I was trying to process the fact that my friend’s daughter was all grown up and sexy as hell, and now this shit.

Instant Message from Me: Why exactly do I need to tell you how I would fuck you, instead of merely reading the scene and making a few notes?

She didn’t respond for several minutes.

Instant Message from Bella: Because I based the first half of the book on us and how we met. I even used our ‘real’ names...

Instant Message from Me: Hmmm. In that case, will you give me some of the royalties if I choose to help you?

Instant Message from Bella: Ugh! No! I was asking for your help as a friend. Please feel free to forget that I ever did.

I laughed as she quickly closed the chat box.

Clicking on her name, I drafted a letter.



Letter Topic: Fucking You (Via Sex Scene)

Dear Bella,

Surely you know that I wasn’t being serious about wanting any of your royalties. (Seeing as though most of your books cost anywhere between 99 cents and three dollars, I’m shocked that you have enough royalties for yourself.)

I’m intrigued by the scene and want to read it.

Send it to me.

Ryan



Letter Topic: Re: Fucking You (Via Sex Scene)

Dear Ryan,

I’m only going to let you read it if you agree to help.

Bella



Letter Topic: Re: Re: Fucking You (Via Sex Scene)

Dear Bella,

Send the damn scene.

Whitney G.'s Books