Wrong Number

**This has not been edited or proofread.**

There was something about the autumn season that just called to my soul. The colorful leaves surrounded me, the fallen ones crunching under my feet with each step I took. The wind blew my hair around my shoulders, and the crisp, cool air made it just a bit easier to breathe.

My mental health was always better during this season. Maybe it was because autumn just pleased me so much, or maybe it was because not so many people were out and about on campus when the cooler air moved in.

Anxiety was a crappy thing to contend with, especially as a college student. I hated deadlines with a passion. They made my skin crawl, and that date and time always kept me distracted.

But my anxiety was a little bit easier to manage when Fall descended upon campus.

I packed my things away once my Lit professor ended his lecture, turning off the monitor and downing the rest of his coffee like he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t get that caffeine in his body. God, coffee sounded blissful, but I’d finished all of mine off before my first class of the day was even over.

My best friend Lorie said that I was a caffeine addict. Honestly, I was just a coffee addict. I wanted coffee whether it was caffeinated or not.

I just loved the taste and the smell of it, especially on a cool day like this. There was something about holding that warm mug between your cold fingers that made you tingle all the way down to your toes.

I hiked my bag onto my shoulder and quickly shot a text to my best friend, letting her know I was on my way to the student center. We always met there during this time on Mondays so we could catch up about the weekend face to face. It was our little bit of reprieve from the chaos of school, and we both used it as a way to get a pick-me-up with food and caffeine before we headed to our last lectures of the day and then spent our evenings studying and doing assignments.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and focused on safely crossing the street. Motorists were supposed to stop for students in the crosswalk, but it didn’t mean they did. I swear, a student got hit once a month, and I wasn’t too keen on being added to the list of those students.

I liked my legs, thank you very much.

After making sure no one was coming, I quickly crossed the street. I was extremely lucky to have my class in the building across the street from the student center. Normally, by the time my class ended, I was hungry and craving coffee. Not having to go so far to get both was one of the best things ever.

The smell of food and coffee infiltrated my nostrils as soon as I opened the heavy, glass door that led into the student center. My stomach rumbled, and I quickly marched up the two flights of stairs that led to the top floor where Chick-Fil-A and Starbucks were located. The student center had elevators, but they moved too slow for me.

When a girl’s hungry, she’ll do whatever she’s got to get her food, even if it means climbing two flights of stairs.

I spotted Lorie sitting at our usual table. I shot her a quick wave before grabbing my phone out of my back pocket as I moved to step in line for Chick-Fil-A. I glanced down at my screen and frowned at the message from an unknown number that had an image attached.

With a disgruntled sigh, I opened the message, hoping it wasn’t something disgusting. Too often, I became the victim of some kind of unsolicited, nasty picture.

My eyes widened in disbelief at the screen just as my cheeks flamed red.

Some random, very hot guy had sent a picture of himself . . . shirtless.

Abs and muscles were stacked on top of each other. I even reached up to wipe my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling. The guy was gorgeous. Deep, green eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes, and his curly, dark hair was messy in the sexiest way possible. He had his fingers sunk deep in the tresses, flexing his arm as he posed, his camera held up to the mirror.

Holy Jesus.

Did guys seriously look like this in real life?

Unfortunately, I knew the message wasn’t meant for me. Guys like this focused on the prettier, skinnier girls. I was just an average girl with thick thighs, a bigger butt, a bit too much chest, and a small bit of gut that I tucked into high-waisted jeans and leggings. My hair was always up in a bun, and I didn’t go anywhere without a jacket, hoodie, or sweater.

Heck, I wasn’t even wearing make-up right now.

I quickly texted back wrong number, hit send, and shoved my phone back into my pocket.

As soon as my hand left my phone, I felt it vibrate again. With a heavy sigh, I grabbed it out, glancing down at the message.

So long as you’re a girl, doesn’t have to be the wrong number.

Snorting in disbelief, I shook my head and moved up one step in line. Deciding to play his ridiculous little game, I quickly texted him back with a girl emoji to let him know that I was, in fact, a girl. Then, I sent another message.

Pretty sure I’m not your type, pretty boy.

Pretty boy? Damn, baby girl. I’d take it as a compliment if I didn’t feel like you were judging me. Let me be the deciding factor of whether or not you’re my type. You got to see my abs and gorgeous face. Let me see you.

Instantly, I was already sort of respecting him for using full words and correct punctuation. Lorie didn’t even use full sentences and punctuation. Her texts were a mix of abbreviated words and run-on sentences.

Blushing a deep, scarlet red, I scrolled through my pictures, found the best one of me, and before I could chicken out, I sent it back.

*whistling* Damn, girl. Definitely my type.

I shook my head and shoved my phone back into my pocket, not sure if I wanted to play this game anymore. There was no way a guy like him could truly be interested in me.

Maybe he was just bored, and I was something fun to pass the time with.

By the time I got to the table Lorie was at with my food and coffee, Lorie was almost finished with her fries. I quickly set my food and drink down before pulling my phone out of my pocket and setting my bag in the chair beside me.

He had texted me again. My eyes widened in disbelief as I picked up my phone and unlocked it so I could read his long message.

Okay, okay. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. Let’s start over. I’m Zach. 21. About to graduate with a Bachelor of Law Degree. Already got accepted into the Master’s program. I’m currently interning as a paralegal at the Law Offices of Winslow and Kingston.

Holy crap. This guy was serious about his schooling, that much was clear. You didn’t get accepted into master’s programs here without really good grades – excellent grades, actually.

“What’s got your attention?” Lorie snatched my phone from me before I could stop her. My cheeks reddened as her eyes widened. “Holy crap on a popsicle stick, girl!”

I laughed at her phrasing all while I blushed as she stared at the picture of Zach. “He texted me by accident,” I told her. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

She handed me my phone back. “Well, clearly, he’s interested in who you are.” She shrugged and stuffed another fry in her mouth. I unpacked my food. “I think you should text him back. Give Mr. Zach McHottie a chance.”

I snorted. “I can probably place money on it that his last name is not McHottie.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay, but as fine as he is, it very well could be and would definitely make sense.”

I rolled my eyes at her logic before glancing back at my phone where he was still sitting on read. Sighing, I texted him back, taking Lorie’s advice.

Very impressive.

His response was almost immediate.

What about you?

I stuck a fry in my mouth, contemplating whether or not to tell him I was only nineteen and in my second year of college. Would that turn him off of me?

My name is Kinsley. I’m 19. I’m currently working on getting a Bachelor’s degree in biology. I have plans to enter pre-med school.

Almost immediately, bubbles flashed across the screen, showing he was already texting me back. I silently shook my head in astonishment. There was no way I was really holding his attention.

Hot. I love a girl who’s smart and isn’t afraid to own it.

“Judging by the blush on your cheeks and the smile on your face, Zach is owning every piece of your cold, dark heart,” Lorie teased.

I threw a fry at her. “My heart is not cold and dark.”

She just snickered. I quickly texted him back.

I could say the same about you. I wasn’t expecting someone that looks like you to have huge plans.

😉 Don’t let my abs fool you, baby girl.