50

LAURA

“I know who that is,” I blurted.

He lifted a brow in an expression that said ‘no shit’. “Well, I’m assuming you do since they have your number.”

Cursing, I got up off his lap, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Not like that. I mean, I don’t know him know him but I know who sent that text and it’s no one important.”

I cringed as soon as the words exited my mouth, realizing just how stupid and careless they sounded. And from the hurt, disbelieving and confused look on Alex’s face, he no doubt thought the same thing.

Hurrying to correct myself, I said, “What I meant to say was, I think I know who sent that text because there’s only one person who ever sends me messages like that and this one has to be from him too.”

Alex sat up, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “And who is this person?”

“I assume it’s a man. I mean, it has to be. Judging by the tone of his messages and”—I cleared my throat—“the things he usually says so, uh, definitely not a girl.”

My attempt to li