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“Surface rat gonna surf.”
“You doubt this mac and cheese master?”
And trust me when I say, you don’t want any ex-potatoes!
If she didn’t keep moving, there was a real possibility she would simply fall apart.
“Sure thing.” But the only thing she was really sure of was that she would never, ever, ever let that happen.
“All you have to do is hold on. And if you’re the praying type… well, it couldn’t hurt.”
He didn’t know where Sylvia had found this girl, but she had to literally be from a different world.
And no matter what place they finished, if Sylvia didn’t take this girl on, she was out of her mind.
In the light of the afternoon, she seemed small, and, well… kind of cute.
After all, if he tried too hard, someone was sure to notice.
If she said no, he would probably never see this girl again. And he was surprised to find, for whatever reason, that bothered him.
What if she didn’t choose him?
Foster considered the possibility that her usual oversized sweater was, in fact, a normal-sized sweater.
This was a new kind of busy. Aggressive, violent, and totally vindictive. Like someone had suddenly thrown a pair of chainsaws into her carefully crafted routine.
Because the next time they kissed, he wanted it to be just for them—and he wanted it to be real.
The woman seemed to run on VSoc cred and willpower. But if anyone deserved some rest, it was definitely her.
Sylvia straightened, rising to her full, completely average, height.
