I voiced along with Watts as I watched the movie Some Kind of Wonderful. The feeling in my chest almost matched the one I had every time my phone pinged with a new message from Rafe. He was wooing me by text, and I was letting him. I was tempted to drive down and surprise him, but I didn’t want to assume anything and seem like a stage-five clinger. I still owed him a proper apology, but it seemed he’d all but forgotten my arson outburst. I had, in my defense, soaked the shirt in water so it would smoke. But the fact that he still spoke to me after that crazy outburst still left me stunned. I meant it to be the end of us. Surely, he had a groupie in every city just waiting for a chance to pounce. Any other guy would have run the other way, I’m sure. Then again, what did I know? I sighed happily as I packed a bag for the beach and another text came through. It was of Rafe. Well, not Rafe exactly. It was a picture of his ball pants and his bulging and pronounced “teammate.” The one who’d helped to knock me out.
