Home>>read Lex free online

Lex(49)

By:S.K. Logsdon


Seems as though I’m a popular girl today.

Roni: I’m out with Bob. Won’t be home till late. Fresh rocky road in the freezer and your favorite caramel sauce on the counter, White Chicks in DVD player all ready for ya. Holler if ya need me.

This is why I love Roni. She doesn’t baby me. She gets to the point, which makes life a hundred times easier. I knew I picked her as my best friend for a reason. Her cleaning skills surely wasn’t one of them.

Unknown: It’s me Gage. How are you feeling today? Just doing my due diligence and checking in.

Unknown: Text back when you get a chance.

Unknown: Left early last night, hope you had a nice time out.

What the heck? Opening up the messages and checking the phone numbers the first two match and the third one is from a different number. I put Gage’s name with his number and click reply to the unknown texter.

Me: Who is this?

Unknown: Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

The Suit Master!!

Me: Suit Master, how did you get this number?

Unknown: I have my ways.

Me: Care to share?

Unknown: Not that, and surly not you.

Me: Why not?

Unknown: You’ll see soon enough.

What is his deal? So secretive, which is sexy in a mysterious, I-should-probably-be-freaked-out kind of way.

I change his number from unknown to Suit Master and I open up Gage’s messages.

Me: I should be the one asking you. How are you feeling, Mike Tyson?

Gage: Not gonna lie. My knuckles are sore as hell. Even though I feel pretty fuckin’ snazzy.

Me: What kind of man says snazzy? And what in the heck is that supposed to mean?

I’m seriously laughing over here, resting in bed, wearing a white teddy. I don’t own a single ugly pair of pajamas. No flannel bottoms, no oversized tees. Silky, attractive, and luxurious are my keys to a good nightie. I like feeling pretty when I go to sleep and when I wake up. It makes for a better day. You should try it.

Gage: This one says it. It means that I’m feeling good. Larger than life.

Me: Why?

Gage: Corey’s not pressing charges. You’re safe and I got to finally touch you last night.

Me: Touch me?

Gage: Yes, you read that correctly. Touch you. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I sort of have a thing for you.

Ok! Wow! He’s a bit blunt today.

Me: Not holding anything back. I see.

Gage: Well I’m not sure if you’re catching my subtleties, so I figured being more forward might help.

Me: It won’t. I’m not looking to date.

Gage: Says the woman with the online dating profile.

He’s right. I know it.

Me: That was a mistake, a huge one that Roni guilted me into.

Gage: Does that mean rose boy is out of the picture?

Me: He was never in the picture. I told you that.

Gage: He was in it enough to know where you work and send expensive flowers.

Me: Is somebody jealous?

Gage: Why would I be jealous? You just said there was nothing going on. I believe you, sort of.

Me: Well you should. He’s a lawyer too, and I’m not fond of lawyers.

Gage: You were fond of me enough last night to let me hold your beautiful body.

Me: It was a mistake. Thank you for being nice and kicking Corey’s ass. Good day, Mr. Masterson

Gage: Good day, Lex.

Sitting my phone on my nightstand, I slip from under the covers and make my bed.

Ding dong, Ding dong, my doorbell rings.

Who would be at my house Saturday midmorning?

Snatching my ivory silk robe from my closet, I pad my way downstairs and to the front door.

Opening it, I’m greeted with a man in a strange blue jumpsuit, wearing a nametag that say’s Mike.

“Can I help you?” I inquire, fingering through my messy hair, confused.

“We have a delivery for a…” He looks down at his clipboard. “Lex Keagan. You her?”

Nodding, I ask. “What kind of delivery.”

“It’s a heavy one. Care if we bring it in through here?” He gestures at my front door.

I shrug. “Yes…I guess.”

What in the world is going on here? A package to be delivered? A large one and a man in a blue jumpsuit.

I back away from the door as he rolls in a large cardboard box on a dolly.

“Where?”

“Well…what is it? I don’t know where to put if it I don’t know what is it.”

Giving me a harsh exasperated look and a shrug, I tell him to leave it in the foyer and I see him to the door, sign for the delivery, shut the door, and slowly walk toward my package.

It’s not a huge box. But it was heavy enough to need a dolly.

Heading quickly into the kitchen to grab a knife, I return to the box and slice the top open. Folding back the flaps and lying the knife on the floor. I crouch down and pull the bubble wrap from the top of the box, discarding it on the floor.