Burn, baby burn...
The second I saw Stacey glance at her phone, I knew. She didn’t even have to say anything. It was the shift in her expression, the sudden quiet, the way her eyes sparkled, but her mouth twisted like she didn’t want me to notice. But I did. Of course I did. We’d just been full-body swooning over the Duke of Hastings, okay, I’d been reenacting the “I burn for you” speech for the hundredth time because it never gets old, and Stacey had been right there with me. Laughing. Teasing. Happy. Until her phone pinged. One second, she was laughing so hard she snorted. The next, she was somewhere else entirely. I paused mid-speech, a Pringles can still dramatically clutched to my chest, and watched as she stared down at her screen like it was the Ark of the Covenant. I didn’t say anything. Not at
- Writer
