SORRY. MAY NOT BE COMING. Casey picked her cuticle and then forced herself to stop before she bled. She held her breath as she waited for the phone’s patented chime. When it came she read: WELL IF UR WITH NICK, YOU’D BETTER COME ;) That made her laugh. Casey wondered how much of this was Annie and how much of it was fate. Had her friend asked this gorgeous, obviously kind, man to take pity on her? Was she a pity fuck? NO WORRIES ABOUT THAT. I DID. TWICE. BUT I FEEL AWFUL. Her vision doubled and then trebled and she wiped her leaking eyes. Listening to Nick in the kitchen getting their drinks had the lazy domestic sounds she missed so much. The sound of another person in the house, moving around, tinkering, making small noises. Not being alone – how much had she craved the sound of another body on slow quiet Sunday mornings? Her phone burbled again and she read: DONT. NICK IS A GOOD GUY. NICE. SWEET. HOT AS HELL! IT’S TIME 4U TO DO THIS. NO GUILT! She typed Kk, their signature sign off meaning OK–OK!
