I walk out of Wrapped in Lace and take out my phone, typing out the first text I’ve sent her in over a week. I know I don’t deserve another second of your time, but if you could meet me tomorrow morning at our beach, I’d really appreciate it. Pressing send, I feel like I might vomit all over the sidewalk, but I can’t just stand around and watch Monty try to steal my girl. If he wants her like I think he does, he won’t do anything to piss her off—which includes telling Cam about us. But even if he does, if this idea backfires in my face, it’ll be worth it because I’ll have her. It's time to lay
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