Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad
But there’s something else in me that wants to stay sharp, that isn’t finished with the night.
And as I see Daniel’s phone, resting on the bar, continuing to light up with text after text, I realize what it is.
“Give me that,” I say, reaching for the phone as Daniel signals the bartender for another round.
“Ignore him,” Daniel suggests lightly, waving a dismissive hand. “Fuck Kent. Fuck Natalia. Fuck ‘em all.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I murmur, entering Daniel’s password (which I obviously have memorized) and clicking open his texts to find at lest six from Kent demanding to know where we are.