So don’t worry, there will be no shenanigans (Shenanigans? Srsly? What are we, 80?) anywhere near the car. You do realize your car is a bubblegum-pink Fiat 500, right? Even if I could get it up surrounded by all that heinous pink, the car is better suited for Lilliputians.
You want to hook up with one of your women, do it in a bed and not in my car. There will be no shenanigans taking place in it or you’ll answer to me. As said agent’s daughter, I know football players and their ways. I don’t really care if he’s going to sign you or not. LASTNAME, my father tells me he lent you my car. Text to HERO LASTNAME from unknown source. Especially considering these two are separated by a continent at this point.
This is still one of my favorite text exchanges in romance. As a historical writer I'm sometimes jealous of the way contemporary authors get to leverage the fast paced banter of texts, instant messaging and the like.
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