Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection
Yet, once again, without any warning, my heart sinks as the love I feel for this man cannot easily be erased. With a quiet sniff, I hold back the tears, tired of crying over something I have no control over.
The damage is done—he’s broken us.
Exiting out of that email, I run the mouse along the other highlighted items. I go by an alias name of Jane Smith. The plainest name one can think of. Using my real name’s not an option with all the hackers who stalk the Internet.
There’s a lot of junk including emails from retailers with their latest offerings, a grant to inherit money from dying widows in Africa if I click and provide my credit card details—yeah, not likely!
My eyes immediately stop scrolling when I notice a new email from John Smith.
Jane,
Avoidance can only get you so far.
John
I check my contact list to remind myself who John Smith is then it clicks—Logan.
Jane, John, and Joe—the three Smiths.
We did this so we could communicate with each other and keep our lives private, but we’ve been using text messages more recently. Ash sends me links to stupid videos of animals doing crazy things, and occasionally he sends an article worth reading. Logan rarely emails me anything unless we’re in a group email.
My fingers rest on the keyboard, not sure how to respond.
Tayla’s busying herself watching some hair tutorial on YouTube while I stare at the screen. Slowly, at less than a snail’s pace, my fingers begin to move of their own accord.
John,
Same with cockiness. Don’t you have another notch to grove into your ever-growing belt?
Jane
I contemplate shutting down my email, but something makes me keep it open. It’s almost as if I’m waiting to see how he can possibly respond to that. I swivel around on my chair and see Tayla smiling at something on her screen. “What’s so funny?”
She looks up, unaware I’ve been watching her. “Oh, just a comment this guy left.”
“Oh…” I acknowledge with a grin. “A guy?”
She nods, still smiling. “Yeah, we’re not dating. He has a girlfriend…” she pauses, her eyes going up like she’s in deep thought and then she continues, “… I think. He leaves comments here and there and they’re just funny.”
“Young love… I remember those days. Except, we didn’t have cells so it was all about passing a note.”
“A note? That’s so old school.”
“You’re telling me. It would have been so much fun messaging a boy rather than passing a note down the classroom hoping that the gossip queen, Rosie Peach, won’t sneak a look at it.”
The sound of a faint ding catches my attention. Turning around to face the screen, I see another email from John Smith. Anxiously, I open it, not realizing I’m holding my breath.
Jane,
I think I might retire the belt for a while. A wise woman once told me I was just like the rest of them. I’m out to prove her wrong.
John
My eyes dart over the email, and for some reason, I can’t hold back my smile. My words have sunk in. I try to think of a witty response, only I come up with nothing but la
me replies, so I log out of my email and turn around.
“Should we talk about what happened in the hall?” I raise the topic wanting to clear the air and ease the guilt that’s plaguing me.