“How should I contact you?” Thayden asks. Giving him my number feels like giving up somehow. Like he’s won whatever game we’re playing. “You can get it from Gavin,” I tell him. “You can’t just give it to me now?” “Nope.” “Playing hard to get?” “I don’t play games. I am hard to get. Bye, handsome,” I call. Thayden’s brows shoot up, and a grin stretches over his face. “And goodbye to you too, Thayden.”
