Finding Delaware (State of Us #1)

by Bree Wiley

Taylor: Speaking of asses… My stomach flips, and I move from the desk to the air mattress, waiting for his response. Taylor: I miss yours. And you are one for leaving me. Goddammit. Pulling up his number, I hit the call button, holding my breath as it rings. When he picks up on the fifth round, he sounds flustered. “Hey?” His deep, husky voice sends a current to my dick, and I chuckle. “Hey. Why do you sound so confused?” “Uh,” he coughs a dry laugh, “besides the occasional call with Salem, I don’t think I talk to anyone on the phone. Like ever. I’m strictly a texter.” That makes me smile. “Is it weird?” “Little bit.” There’s a pause, some rustling in the background. “Not bad, though.” I wish I could see his face. An odd sound comes over the line, like a swallow, prompting me to ask him what he’s up to. “Eating a HotPocket,” he mumbles, clearly with his mouth full. I snort. “Do you ever eat real food?” “Yeah, on Wednesdays when Salem takes pity on us and comes over to cook.” Sounds about right. “How is she doing?” “Eh. Been better.” Sighing, I flop back onto my pillow. “Yeah. Logan, too.” He grunts, and we’re both quiet while he eats. Usually, the sound of someone chewing in my ear sets me off, but with Taylor, it’s different. Like it’s proof he’s still there, even after all I’ve done to drive him away. “So what had to be said over the phone that you couldn’t text?” He asks finally, presumably done with his food. “Well, first, I-I kind of missed your voice,” I stammer, fee...