SEND. The moment the text goes out, Vivian Delacruz and I are inevitable.
She thinks a text from a stranger is destiny. Texts that turn into breathless late-night phone calls that leave the two of us sweaty and panting.
Destiny has nothing to do with it. I’m a man consumed by her. She has no idea she passes right by me every day or that my hands literally ache to touch her. She doesn’t know there isn’t a moment throughout the day I don’t watch her.
Vivian Delacruz may think a wrong number brought us together, but what happens when she discovers it wasn’t fate but obsession?
