Can't Text This (Texting, #3)

by Teagan Hunter

“Is Uncle Zach dying?” Xavie calls out from the living room. “We hope so! I think I’m in his will.” “Yay, money!”

“Who you texting, Dad?” “Business.” “Business?” “Yeah, none of yours.”

“Be good. Be smart. Be kind.” “Be good. Be smart. Be kind,”

“Hey!” she calls when I step out. “I heard you finger-banged some girl in the bathroom of a bar.” “I fucking hate your boyfriend.”

I am a disgusting, shameless man. But a very prompt, disgusting shameless man.

Monty: Hi Robert Cross. I’m Montana Andrews. Even though you’ve already had your tongue down my throat and your hand up my skirt, it’s nice to officially meet you.

Monty: I have two siblings. My sister’s name is Denver, but we call her Denny, and my younger brother’s name is Charleston, but we call him

“No, you don’t get it. I can’t stop thinking about you, or your ass, your tits…your kissable-as-fuck mouth.” I chuckle at how far off this conversation just went, in typical Robbie fashion. “Or your off-the-wall personality and stupid sexy grandma outfits, which is kind of embarrassing if you think about it.”

“I know this was supposed to be light and fluffy and fun or whatever, but it’s evolved. I want more than that. I want stability. I want real. I want you.”