Abbie’s Mac: Exactly. No dead weight.
Cameron’s Mac: Sounds perfect, but if we do it this way, we do it with one condition.
Abbie’s Mac: Shoot.
Cameron’s Mac: We won’t deal in perfection and absolutes.
Abbie’s Mac: And no promises we can’t realistically keep.
His slow nod was confirmation we were onto something.
Cameron’s Mac: I’m just going to point out now I hate that I have to stare at the forbidden fruit instead of what’s behind it.
Abbie’s Mac: That’s kind of a two-sided thing.
Cameron’s Mac: Lend me that dress you wore the other night so I can make it as hard on you.
I grinned and shook my head.
Abbie’s Mac: Sense of humor, I like it. My mom thinks I’m a world class smart ass.
He picked up another cup hidden behind his Mac and took a sip as if he were ready for me. It read Only the Sarcastic Survive.
Abbie’s Mac: I should make that my first tattoo. How many cups do you have over there?
I leaned to the side and peeked behind his Mac to see several more.
Cameron’s Mac: I’m prepared today.
Abbie’s Mac: Okay, let’s see them.
He slowly lifted the first cup. Good Morning, Beautiful. I gave him a lopsided grin that quickly turned into a scowl when he lifted another that read Show Me Your Kitties. I palmed my mouth to hide my smile.
His third cup came up. I love Clit.
Abbie’s Mac: Really?
Cameron’s Mac: Too crass, I agree. But I was taking your friend Bree’s advice. And for the record, I know the clit is not a fictional character.
I threw his word back at him from the night at the bar.
Abbie’s Mac: Noted.
He held up a wait-for-it finger and gave me remorseful puppy dog eyes as he showed me his next cup that read I Love Your Face.
Abbie’s Mac: Much better.
Thick, sculpted brows double tapped his forehead as he lifted the last cup. Call Me El Jefe Grande. I rolled my eyes as he shrugged.
Abbie’s Mac: You’re somewhere between perfect and a pervert at this point.
“I was in a hurry,” he said across the space. I pressed a librarian’s finger to my lips.
Cameron’s Mac: Really? No talking at all?
Abbie’s Mac: Plenty of talking. Just like this.
He sat back briefly with a devastating smirk before he leaned in and typed.