Olivia let herself into her apartment and dropped her bag on the floor as she closed the door, locking it behind her. It had been one of those days and all she wanted was a glass of wine and a hot bath. She grabbed the bottle off the counter, not even bothering to get a glass as she headed for the bathroom, kicking off her shoes as she went.

Maybe a good session of self love would help get her mind off of things. Some bubbles and candles...a dirty little fantasy and an orgasm… yes, that sounds lovely she thought as she started the water and poured in a generous amount of bubble bath before pulling her phone out of her pocket and setting it on the edge of the tub while she stripped down, tossing her clothes in the hamper.

She rolled her eyes as her phone buzzed, assuming it was her mother once again demanding to know how her article was coming along for the weekly paper she ran. Olivia always wanted to be a journalist, and right after graduation, she was offered a job at the Herald, which she jumped at immediately. She felt proud to have the career she preferred, even if it was for her mother.

However, Olivia soon learned that as overbearing as Amy could be as a mother, it didn’t even compare to her as a boss who shared the same name as her mother. Boss Amy is terrifyingly formidable; relentless and demanding in her pursuit of a story with no care or qualm as to whom she may hurt, or anger, or offend. Honestly, how Olivia has managed to work for her as long as she has is a mystery in itself, one that not even she has the answer to.

But now, eight years later, the news in their town has gone stale. A big difference from when Olivia had started, and the town had been hopping with stories and scandals; from murders to cults to gangs and corruption. Now all that remained was one gang, the Bozers, or Bridge trash, as her mother so lovingly coined them while ignoring that she herself had grown up on the Bridge, and had, in her youth, been a part of their group.

And even though they were more of an MC than anything else now, her mother’s disdain for them has not wavered, and she continues her never ending mission to bring them down, completely dismissive of the fact that, at least to Olivia’s knowledge, they don’t really do anything wrong. But harmless or not, Amy had fabricated enough shit over the years to get the entire town thinking they were some evil force out to ruin Parkstone and corrupt their children.

Olivia didn’t agree with her mother at all and therefore stayed far away from any news pertaining to the Bozers. She didn’t want any part in defamation and written lies. She left that to her mother. Besides, Olivia kind of liked the Bozers. Granted, she didn’t know any of them and had never interacted with them, but they thrilled her. In a town full of pretentious idiots, they were unabashedly rebellious and took great pleasure in being shit disturbers. They were real; they did what they wanted and didn’t care what anybody thought, and Olivia was jealous of their freedom to live life how they saw fit.

Olivia wasn’t sure what turned her mother against them as Amy had always refused to talk about her past, especially when it came to the Bozers, but what Olivia did know...was that their leader, Ace Walker, was hot as hell, and there wasn’t a woman in Parkstone that didn’t lust after him in one way or another. He was the epitome of the bad boy fantasy, dark and dangerous with an air of mystery; and the fact that he was basically walking sex wrapped up in leather and sat atop a Harley definitely worked in his favor.

She had seen him earlier in the day when he had rolled into the HotSpot parking lot with all his buddies. They were standing around their bikes when she had left the diner with her and her mom’s lunch, and she had watched him as he leaned against his bike; booted feet crossed at the ankles, leather clad arms crossed over his chest, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, and that ridiculous hat he always wore on his head. He was a perfect combination of scary and sexy, and when he’d caught her looking, his mouth had quirked up in a smug smirk, making her flush red as she glanced away and hurried to her car. She had felt his eyes on her as they followed her out of the parking lot, and she was sure that he’d known exactly what she had been thinking.

Yes, Ace Walker was a great illusion...but in reality, completely unacceptable.

She was still too controlled to let herself go crazy. Too worried about how others will see her. Something that her mother had drilled into her since birth.

Always be at your best. Never let people see you crumble under pressure. Stand up straight. Control your thoughts. Control your actions. Control, control, control.

Maybe one day Olivia would get out of this shitty town and be a real journalist somewhere else. Or maybe just be whatever somewhere else. Olivia didn’t know why she stayed in Parkstone, there was nothing really keeping her here besides her friends, whom she loved and liked having so close, and her mom of course, who despite her craziness and control, loved her and she loved in return. Maybe one day, though, she’d break free and run from this hell hole.

Olivia lit some candles and turned off the light, leaving the bathroom in a peaceful glow as she lowered herself down into the bubbles. She leaned back and grabbed the bottle of wine, pulling the stop and taking a long drink before settling it on the edge. Getting drunk sounded good too. Something she only ever did in the privacy of her apartment when she knew she wouldn’t be seeing anybody. Got to keep up appearances, Olivetta. God, she was pathetic.

Her phone buzzed again, and Olivia rolled her eyes, grabbing it to see what her mother wanted, her brow raising in surprise as she noticed two different message notifications on her screen. The first was her from her mother, of course, which she dismissed, but the second was from a number she didn’t recognize and she swiped to open the message.

Finally, got that poem you wrote tattooed on my side.

“Picture file attached…”

Being the curious journalist that Olivia was, she clicked it open, and her breath caught, choking a little at what she saw because holy hell, what a side it was! She felt herself drooling as her eyes traced the lines of the chest on her screen, long and defined and adorned with a scrolling black ink. The man definitely had a fine body, and the sweats he wore sat so low on his hips that it would take only a little slip and she’d be able to see the impressive package he seemed to be handling. The thought making Olivia hot all over and her pulse pound, reminding her it had definitely been too long since her last tumble in the sack.

“Jesus,” Olivia muttered, gaping at the photo. She was disappointed that she couldn’t see his face because it had to be handsome...right? With a body like that?

“Seriously, Olivia?” she chastised, with a roll of her eyes. Who thinks like that?

She stared at the image for a few more seconds, his v-lines alone holding her attention for longer than what was probably considered normal. Well, Olivia had her fantasy for “self-love,” she mused with a grin.

Olivia bit her lip as she struggled internally before throwing caution to the wind and started typing.

I think you have the wrong number.

She watched the screen, grabbing a wine bottle and taking another drink as she waited to see if he’d reply. It took a couple minutes, but soon the chat bubbles appeared, Olivia smiled; a nervous anticipation fluttering in her gut.

Shit, sorry…

Olivia took another sip and let her eyes roam over the photo again. She set her bottle down and smirked. It was Friday night, and she had no other plans, so why not have a little fun? She told herself as she typed out another reply.

No need to apologize. In fact, you just made this woman’s Friday night a little more exciting.

Again, it took a few minutes for a response. Whoever it was, they clearly weren’t paying that much attention to their phone, which only made Olivia want to see if she could change that.

“Oh yeah? LOL…” came back his reply.

Definitely. Your tattoo looks great, by the way, and so does all the rest.

Olivia pressed send and held her breath. The chat bubble appeared almost instantly this time, and she smirked. She had his attention.

You think so?

Oh yes….there isn’t a woman in the world that wouldn’t find that attractive.

Well, I wouldn’t know about that…

Olivia bit her lip.

Trust me.

I can’t trust you. I don’t know who you are.

Well, the man had Olivia there.

Maybe if you showed me yours….

Olivia giggled.

Sorry Casanova, it won’t be that easy. LOL.

Ahh…that’s not fair. You saw mine.

Olivia laughed, the fact that he actually sent a tear emoji cracking her up. She had no doubt that he never had to work hard to get anything from a woman, and she wanted to make him writhe a bit, but before she could reply, he sent another text.

Maybe some other time.

Gotta run ‘wrong number’, sorry again for the mix up.

“Well, damn,” Olivia sighed, staring at the screen. She didn’t bother replying and scrolled back up to once again stare at his image. Well, she had no idea what he looked like, but with a body like that, she didn’t need a face. Although...maybe he could lend his face for the night’s self-love activities.

Olivia laid back and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she let her hand travel down her front. A fine Friday night it would be indeed after seeing Mr. Sexy.

Ace put his feet up on the table tucked into the corner of the bar and leaned his chair back to balance on two legs, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He let the smoke out with a long sigh, glancing around the bar in annoyance. For a Saturday night, it was rather dead.

“What’s up, Walker?” Smokey asked as he threw back a shot of whiskey. “You look like you just fucked your mother.”

“Jesus, can you not say shit like that?” Ace sighed as he reached for his bottle of beer. “What does that even mean?”

“You look depressed.”

“I think if I was fucking my mother, I’d have bigger problems than depression,” Ace replied with an eye roll. “I’m just bored. Nothing’s been happening.”

“Nothing ever happens in this fucking town,” Smokey laughed, lighting a cigarette. “Why are you suddenly wanting shit to happen? We’ve been through enough. I figured you liked the quiet now.”

“I’m just...tired…”

“You probably just need to get laid or something.”

Ace let out a laugh. “Seriously, there isn’t even anyone I’d want to roll in the sack with.”

“Well, nobody you can have anyway,” Smokey said with a knowing smirk.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ace growled, regretting ever telling Smokey his ridiculous fantasy. The man constantly used it against him. “Hell, the closest I’ve gotten to getting laid in like forever is flirting with some random wrong number for a couple minutes,” he told as he pulled another drag from his smoke, and Smokey looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Come again?”

“I was showing off my latest tattoo and texted the wrong number. Apparently, I made some woman’s Friday night,” he said with a little smirk.

“She knew who you were?”

“Nah, it was just my chest, but it seemed to get her thrilled,” Ace laughed.

“So what happened? Phone sex?”

“No, I was meeting up with Tricia,” he shrugged. “She never replied after I said I had to run.”

“Oh well, was probably some lonely homemaker, anyway.”

“Maybe,” Ace chuckled. He had thought little about it and now he wondered if there was some housewife out there who was so bored with life that a text from a stranger was working her up.

“Well, let’s play some pool,” Smokey suggested, “Cause that’s about all the excitement I can offer you tonight bud,” he taunted as he got up.

“Yeah, be right there,” Ace called after him as he reached for his phone, which was vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was the same number he had accidentally texted the night before.

Figure I owed you one…

There was a picture file attached and Ace opened it, the front legs of his chair making contact with the floor again as he sat up straight and bit back a groan.

“Holy fuck,” Ace sighed as he stared at the photo. He felt an actual twitch in his jeans and his mouth went dry as he beamed at the sexiest pair of wet, sudsy legs he’d ever seen. They were balanced prettily on the edge of a bubble-filled tub with candlelights.

He immediately wanted them wrapped around him.

Maybe Smokey was right.

He needed to get laid.

It took him a moment before Ace managed to form a thought that wasn’t complete filth, then typed out a reply.

Fucking hell, girl! Warn a guy first…

The reply was almost instant.

You’re welcome!

“Come on, Ace,” Smokey called from the pool table as he set up the game. Ace got up and wandered over as he typed out a message.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to concentrate on what I’m doing now that I have that picture in my head.

What are you doing?

Hanging with a friend, about to shoot some pool, and I’m most likely going to lose now.

Ace chuckled and put his phone in his pocket, grabbing the pool cue that Smokey handed to him.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Ace said with a smirk as he set up to break. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and was suddenly annoyed that he wasn’t somewhere alone.

Olivia smiled as she laid her phone down on the edge of the tub. He wasn’t replying, and she figured he must have started his game, which led her to wonder at the game that she had just started. It felt good to do something a little crazy, and Olivia would definitely consider this absurd. She did not know who she was talking to, and wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She enjoyed the mystery. It was freeing almost; Olivia didn’t have to pretend to be something she’s not. She could just be herself. Not having to worry about her image or what she said because he didn’t know who she was, anyway.

Later, as Olivia was climbing into bed to binge some Netflix before bed, her phone vibrated and she grabbed it, smiling when she saw the number. The guy was back. Olivia bit her lip, opened the message, and giggled.

I got my ass handed to me thanks to those legs of yours. Never lost so bad in my life.

Sure, sure, blame the legs, mister.

Seriously, I couldn’t concentrate, sweetpea.

How could a pair of legs break your concentration, sir?

There was no reply for a while and Olivia was about to put the phone down when she saw the chat bubbles. She let out an awed breath at his reply.

Well, when all you can think about is those legs wrapped around you, you really can’t concentrate on any game…

“Oh my god,” Olivia gasped, a flutter of sexy excitement going through her stomach.

Well, I couldn’t concentrate at work all day because I kept thinking about your v lines… so I think we’re even.

What about them?

Women like those…

Oh yeah?

Are you telling me with a body like that, that no girl has ever told you how sexy those are? Or that she wanted to run her tongue along them?

Well….fuck….

Olivia really had no idea what she was doing and why she was being so bold, but damn, it felt good to just not give a shit. It was Saturday, and Olivia had spent the day trying to dodge her mother’s calls because apparently she didn’t believe in people having a day off, so now she just wanted to forget and have a little fun.

I got to ask...you’re not married, are you?

The question made her laugh.

No, I promise I’m not. Are you?

Free as a bird. I don’t suppose you want to tell me who you are?

I kind of like the mystery. It feels easier…

Ok, I guess…

Well, I mean, if you want to keep talking, that is.

Olivia quickly continued, suddenly feeling skeptical.

Hopefully, you don’t think I’m nuts.

Nothing wrong with nuts…

Olivia laughed at that and fluffed her pillow as she curled up, forgetting about Netflix all together.

I’ll just put you in my phone as ‘Legs’

Wow, what an honor…

It is an honor. I don’t have many contacts in my phone, and none that I don’t actually know.

You don’t have a lot of friends?

Yes, and no.

Olivia waited before questioning him on that interesting response.

Well, then I’ll put you in my phone as ‘Abs’.

Well, aren’t we original… haha!

Olivia laughed and made the contact. It felt strange and exciting all at the same time and she wondered what would come of this. Maybe at some point she would know who he is, but this worked for now. Like a friend without pressure of any kind.

Legs: You still playing pool?

Abs: Nope. Lost my pride and called it a night.

Legs: Sorry LOL!

Abs: I don’t think you are…

Legs: Well, now I get to talk to you, so maybe I’m not.

Abs: So Legs, tell me about yourself…

Olivia chewed on her lip as she read the message. What could she say without giving away who she was? If she mentioned her friends, or what people knew about her, or that she worked at the newspaper, then he could surely figure it out...so really, keeping it very personal was probably the only way to keep her identity hidden.

Legs: I’m kind of a loner. I like to stay home and read a good book or watch a good movie. I work too hard and when I’m not working; I like my downtime. I’m not really up for parties and things like that.

Abs: Don’t have many friends?

Legs: Not many, but they are good friends. How about you? Tell me about yourself. Tell me something nobody else knows.

Abs: Ahh… going for the secrets. Haha.

Legs: Just a little one… pretty please…

Abs: All right, I love to read as well….and I write…

Olivia furrowed her brow as she read the text. Why would something like that be a secret?

Legs: Why is that a secret?

Abs: Well….if you knew who I was or saw the crowd I hang with, you probably wouldn’t picture me as the intellectual type.

Legs: Hmm….

Abs: That’s all you get?

Legs: I have a question…

Abs: Uh oh… should I be worried? LOL.

Legs: I guess that depends on your response. The first time you texted me by mistake, you assumed I was the person who wrote the poem that you got tattooed. May I ask who it was who wrote the poem that was important enough to make you ink it on yourself?

Abs: My sister. She wrote it when she was thirteen and I always thought it was wonderful. I told her I would tattoo it on myself one day and she never believed me.

He had a little sister, and tattooed her poem on his body...could this man be any more adorable?

Legs: That’s really sweet. Did she like it?

Abs: Yeah, she cried. Haha.

Legs: Awww, that’s sweet. You’re very sweet.

Abs: Shhhhh, that’s a secret too!

Olivia smiled and wondered how many people actually kept secrets that showed their true self from the people around them. Probably most she figured.

Abs: Hey, it was nice chatting but I have to go.

Legs: Ok, have a good evening!

Olivia put the phone away and curled up under the covers. She didn’t really know why talking to this stranger was so intriguing. Olivia realized the crappiness of the day had completely vanished because of him. She got the hint that he was a bit of a badass from all the blurry bits of tattoos that she could see in his photo, but also got the feeling that there was more to him than what he projected. Like her, he was someone who hid things about himself from the world and the people around him.

It made Olivia feel special, being one of the assumed few who knew he loved to read and write. She wondered what other secrets she would unveil as she fell asleep thinking about her mystery man.

Ace leaned back against the counter behind the bar as he reached for his phone that was buzzing away in his pocket. He smiled down at the screen as he read the message.

Legs: I had the worst fucking day. Save my sanity with something witty.

It had been two and a half weeks of texts every night, and Ace loved what had become of their fun routine. He still did not know who she was, but their connection was so strong that he felt as though he had always known her. She was funny and witty, and he wasn’t going to lie. He loved flirting with her.

Abs: I’m all out of wit tonight, but how about the fact that your text made me smile?

Legs: That’s so cheesy.

Abs: I thought you liked cheese.

Ace grinned at her eye-roll reply.

“You talking to your mystery lady again?” Smokey asked as he came up to the bar and sat down on a stool. “She’s about the only person making you smile these days.”

Ace shrugged and shoved his phone in his pocket. “I like this girl.”

“You don’t even know who she is,” Smokey laughed. “That’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe I like weird,” he shrugged again.

“How bored are you that you’re even entertaining this woman?”

“Hey,” Ace said pointedly, “this isn’t about me being bored, and I’m not doing this to ‘entertain’ her, jackass. I meant what I said, I like her, and like you can talk...what’s going on in your life lately that is even a bit interesting, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Smokey shrugged. “I hooked up with Hannah last week.”

Ace raised a brow as he grabbed a beer and shoved it across the bar to his friend. “How is that interesting? You do that all the time.”

Smokey shrugged again and took a sip of his beer, done with the topic. “You see the latest article that bitch Amy Martin printed?”

“Don’t remind me,” Ace sighed, running a hand over his face. He’d about had it with the woman. Always fabricating lies and trying to make the Bozers look bad for literally no reason. Whatever shit had happened back in the day while she was in the gang had made her bitter for life, and he had a feeling it had something to do with his father, but the man refused to talk about it.

“Where does she even come up with this shit? Now she’s claiming we’re the ones breaking into the smoothie shack every night? Why the fuck would the Bozers break into a god damned smoothie shack?” Smokey sputtered in angry disbelief.

“Maybe she thinks we’re thirsty,” Ace laughed.

“Maybe you should find that daughter of hers and get her to change her mother’s mind about us,” Smokey winked.

“Whatever,” Ace said with a roll of his eyes. “Let Amy write her shit. Nobody believes her anyway.” His phone vibrated again, and he hid his smile as he looked around. “Well, I’m going to call it a night. Nothing’s happening around here anyway,” he told his friend, giving him a parting slap on the shoulder before walking away.

“Tell the truth, Walker,” Smokey yelled after him as Ace headed for the stairs to his room. “You’re going home to sext with some chick.”

Ace flipped him off and headed up the stairs, pulling his phone from his pocket as he left.

Legs: Ok, I’m going to need some more cheese to go with this wine I’m having…

Ace laughed and sent a reply.

Abs: Don’t get too drunk, wouldn’t want you throwing up all over yourself.

Legs: I’ve never been that drunk.

Abs: Well, just in case. I can’t take care of you if you get sick, so put the wine down.

Legs: Awww, you want to take care of me?

Now back at his place, Ace pulled his shirt off and tossed it over a chair as he headed for his bathroom. He left Olivia hanging for a bit, smirking as he undressed completely and got into the shower. He wished he knew what she looked like, but she seemed to enjoy this whole not knowing thing. Ace got that the mysterious element added to the fun of it, but he really liked the girl and he had wondered if they would get along just as well sitting across from each other at a table at HotSpot as they do across a phone.

Ace got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, then picked up the phone and saw that Olivia had sent a GIF showing an impatiently waiting cartoon blonde girl tapping her nails on a table while staring at a cell phone.

Was this some kind of hint? Was she blonde? God, Ace had a thing for blondes.

He teased her and took a body shot from above him, showing his fit self wrapped in the towel that rested low on his hips. Just like with all the body shots he had sent her before, he was careful to hide his Bozer tattoos and any other ink that might reveal his identity. Especially avoiding angles showing his left side, which had the word Walker inked down its entire length. He grinned as he sent it and went to his fridge to grab some water. Her reply was immediate.

Legs: I swear you’re trying to kill me…

Ace laughed when he read it. This was the fifth picture of his body he’d sent her since they had started chatting. He enjoyed teasing her, and was hoping it would lead to her revealing more of herself, but so far, she had continued to keep him wanting by only ever replying with pictures of her legs.

Not that they weren’t great legs, because they were. Hell, Ace had those gorgeous lines memorized and the sweet ache to have them wrapped around him increased every day...it was torture...sexy as fuck, but torture all the same.

Texting back and forth; Ace and Olivia chatted about their day and everything in between, with copious amounts of flirting thrown in. If Ace was honest, he was really starting to long to know who Olivia was, to get to know her more than just through words and pictures. There were times where he was tempted to press the call button just to hear her voice, to have that little something more, but he didn’t want to push anything, and he didn’t want to scare her off because he’d been telling Smokey the truth, he had really begun to have a thing for the girl.

Abs: Like you with your legs? I dream about those beautiful limbs…

Legs: Limbs? LOL you make me sound like a tree.

Abs: Trees are wonderful for climbing.

Legs: Christ…

Abs: You religious? Cause I can make you reach heaven if you’ll let me.

Legs: Oh God!

Abs: I can probably make you say that as well if you like.

Legs: Shut up, you’re making me blush, you idiot, plus once again, that was cheesy as hell.

Ace laughed as he flopped down on his bed, settling against the pillows.

Abs: What I’m really wondering is how a girl with legs like yours is home almost every Friday and Saturday night. Is there really no other guy in your life?

Legs: No, I promise, I’m currently single as can be. And I could ask you the same thing, how are you single? I mean, if you think my legs should belong to someone, why isn’t that sexy six pack taken?

Abs: I don’t know. I’m picky, I guess.

Legs: Really? Maybe this sounds shallow, but I know as a woman, if I was out to get laid, I’d probably be looking for what you’re presenting. I bet women approach you all the time.

Abs: They really don’t. I’m not saying I never get hit on, but I guess I’ve learned to present a demeanor that isn’t welcoming.

Legs: You don’t want women to approach you?

Abs: Most of the time, no.

Legs: Are you gay?

Abs: LOL, hell no.

Legs: I wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, I’m genuinely asking.

Abs: I’m pretty sure I think about your legs around me far too often to be gay…

Ace let out a frustrated sigh when she responded with another shot of her legs, this time showing a hint of pink panties on the hip.

“Damn,” he muttered, wiping a hand over his face. He sent her a text.

Abs: Ok, that’s fucking hot, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve seen those, you got to give me a little more cause I’m dying here LOL… and you’ve got to see all of me from the neck down...

Legs: I’m too shy…

Abs: I promise nobody will see this but me.

Abs: And now I feel like a perv…

Abs: Never mind, forget I asked.

The laughing emoji she sent him made him relax a little. He felt a little desperate for more, but didn’t want to seem like a creep.

Legs: Maybe tomorrow…

Ace smiled and shook his head. Legs confused him sometimes, sassy and flirty and bold, and then suddenly shy. Well, really, what was the rush anyway? They had all the time in the world; it seemed.

“Do you think this is a bit weird?” Olivia asked her best friend Shelly as they sat at HotSpot having lunch.

“Do I think it’s weird that you’ve been texting some guy for a month now and don’t know who it is?” her friend returned with a laugh. “Yes, it’s weird. Like what’s the freakin’ point?”

“I don’t know,” Olivia sighed. “It’s easy I guess. There is literally no pressure, no expectations. I’m pretty sure if he actually knew who I was, he’d run for the hills.”

“Why the hell would he do that? You’re literally the best catch in town.”

Olivia rolled her eyes at that. “I’m Amy Martin’s daughter...the very reason that guys normally dump me. My mom’s nuts, Shel. No guy ever sticks around ever because of her.”

“You just haven’t found the right one yet. You need a real man, one with enough balls to stand up to your dragon of a mother instead of running the other way,” Shelly insisted, waving away her friend’s concern. “Anyway, you will not find him while texting some random stranger you know nothing about.”

“That’s not true,” Olivia argued. “I know a lot about him already.”

“Like what?”

“I know he loves to read and write, and that he has a side he hides from his friends, or at least that he doesn’t show many people. I know he loves burgers. I know he loves his sister and doesn’t get on that well with his dad. From what he says, it seems like he has some sort of rep or persona in public that is the opposite of who he really is.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing? That he lies to everyone?”

“It’s not that he lies,” Olivia defends with a shrug. “He just has things he does when he’s alone that he doesn’t share with anyone. And he’s so sweet Shel, he’s always asking if I’m all right, and how my day was. It’s almost like he tries to take care of me, at least as much as he can over text. He makes sure I’ve eaten, reminds me to get rest, and always says he’s honestly happy to hear from me when I message him. I think people see him as this tough bad boy, especially if his tattoos and things he says about life are anything to go by, but on the inside he’s smart, and funny... And he’s just so gentle and kind.”

“Ok, I believe you,” Shelly laughed. “Let’s just hope your prince charming doesn’t turn out to be a gang member or more deadly,” she adds, looking at Olivia with a raised brow.