Number Neighbor

Part 3

"Just this stupid thing people are doing. It's called number neighbor. People text the person whose number is one digit off from their number. That's who I'm talking to. My number neighbor, Colby" Dad scratched his head and adjusted his glasses thinking over what I just said to him. His brows drew together. "You have a neighbor named Colby. And you guys share the same phone number?"

He didn't get it. "One digit off."

"Which digit?"

"The last."

"Does it have to be the last?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Wouldn't any digit still make one your number neighbor?" Dad tossed his hand dismissing any logic he had about it. "I haven't the faintest idea."

"Me either."

He tilted his head and looked over at me. "He doesn't live near you right?"

"No. We aren't real neighbors, Dad." I rolled my eyes. "Just phone neighbors."

"What if he's some guy in his parent's
basement with mutton chops?" We both started laughing.

Shit. What if he is?

"How old is this guy?"

"Twenty-four."

Dad gave a knowing nod. "So, he's probably thirty."

"What? Why would he lie about his
age?"

"Guys lie about a lot when they first try impressing a girl." He shrugs.

"That makes absolutely no sense."

Dad pursed his lips like he always did when he was concerned and trying to say something without upsetting me. "You can't trust everyone you meet, kid."

I combed my fingers through my curls and stared out the window. "Everyone is not Derek." I clutched my chest. Derek was a manipulative prick. Who only thought about himself and what made him happy. And what made him happy was sticking his dick in every girl he met at the strip club while I was out of town for work. Another reason I hated social media. If I lived in the dark ages, I wouldn't have seen my boyfriend cheating on me through pictures and videos.

"I should have punched him." Dad insisted. "I should still punch him. Maybe I will this week if I see him."
I groaned, dropping my head against the window. "Derek is not going to come to the studio anymore. He knows to stay far away from all of you." Dad wasn't the only one threatening to harm him if he came near any of us. Derek delivered packages for a living, the guy who fucked everything with his package

also delivered them. It was fitting. I hated talking about him.

Colby: How tall are you?

Sage: I'm five foot five.

Colby: Okay. Not to short not too tall. Wild hair, green eyes. What month were you born?

Sage: November you?

Colby: January. Describe your body without sounding like a pervert.

I bit down on my lip that damn butterfly igniting in my stomach again.

Sage: Why don't we just send each other pictures?

Colby: Ruins all the fun.

He was so a basement dweller.