A wrong number is supposed to be just that—a wrong number.
Do not continue to text. Do not flirt.
A wrong number shouldn’t be the first person on your mind in the morning, or the last at night…and you’re definitely not supposed to talk them into buying a baby goat.
Because that would be weird.
When Zach Hastings and I get into a wrong-number mix-up, we don’t follow the rules. We keep texting and flirting, because he’s wicked funny and perfectly nerdy and a wonderful distraction.
I’m not looking for love, and Zach definitely had the wrong number.
Maybe he’s the right guy.
Review : I loved this book it was so cute and funny . Delia ends up breaking up with her boyfriend who is better as friend than a boyfriend and then she gets a wrong number who turns out to be zach and they have great conversation and they talk a lot . They have phone movie nights until her best friend makes her ask Zach out and they go on an amazing date . Zach got a freaking baby goat as a pet named marshmallow awwwwwwwwwwwww . Things are going great until they go to his parents house for thanksgiving everything was perfect until Delia found out Zach's step brother is a guy who fucked her friend and left and he's a total dick . Then Delia's ex boyfriend tells her a photo got out and he only knew it was her cause they dated and Delia thinks Zach did it but after she gets home and is crying over ice cream her ex and her best friend tell her it was probally Zach's step brother cause that didn't sound like zach as a person this part made me mad i'm like comunicate with each other Delia and her best friend goat nap marshmallow Zach and Delia make up I loved this book .
Zach: How come when I order a large pizza for myself for lunch I receive one of “those” looks from the delivery guy? Me: Wait, wait, wait…you work from home? Zach: Yes, but not the point. Let’s focus on the pizza delivery guy and his sassy stares here. Me: Well I imagine you’re answering the door in your pajamas with uncombed hair, so you appear all sad and heartsick…or just sick. Or weird. Or a creeper. Yeah, you know what, you DO look like a creeper. Zach: I would take offense, but you’re probably right. Me: Probably? Zach: That’s the story I’m sticking with. Me: I think the point of view on your story is skewed. Zach: YOU’RE SKEWED. Zach: God. That was awful. Forget I sent that. Me: *screenshot* Zach: You’re evil. I knew there was at least one redeeming quality about you. Me: And what about my smart mouth? Zach: You’re right—one and a half. Me: I’ll take my winnings where I can.
Zach: Yes? Me: I…I didn’t mean to bring up your mom. I had no idea. Zach: Don’t sweat it. You’re still my favorite penis potholder maker…this week. Me: Is there anything else I should know about you? Any other subjects that are off the table? Zach: I hate clowns and bunnies. That’s about it. Me: I’m sorry…BUNNIES?! How is that possible? Zach: Don’t judge me. I’m sure there’s something weird out there that you’re afraid of.
“Are you going to touch your dick the entire night? On the couch? Because other people sit there too, ya know. Don’t be uncouth. It’s not cool, man.” “I’m not touching my dick.” “But are you thinking about touching your dick?” I hear the other guy in the room snap his fingers. “Ah ha! Hesitation! You were thinking about touching your dick.” “Oh my god. This could not possibly be more awkward,” Zach mumbles. “I don’t know, I think it could be worse,” I tell him. “Shut up,” he responds to me…I think. “No, you shut up. You’re the one who ditched us tonight,” his friend chimes in. I snicker and hear Zach groan. “I didn’t ditch you, Robbie.” “You did. You ditched us for your dick.” “I am not touching my dick!” I have a feeling that last statement was for Robbie and me. “Not right now, but you’re going to. I live with you—I know things about you.” Another groan from Zach. “This is the most awkward moment of my life.” “Does he not know I’m here?” I question. Zach doesn’t answer, and I’m assuming his buddy has no clue we’re on the phone. “Robbie, please, I am begging you to leave already…” “Why? Am I embarrassing you? Why are your cheeks so red?” I can hear the ticking from here… “Because I am on the phone with a woman, you moron!” Zach explodes like a bomb. “I have my Bluetooth in because we’re trying to watch a show.” I can imagine him sitting there, red-faced and waving his arms around in desperation, and the image is enough for me to laugh hysterically. “Knock it off!” “Knock what off?” Robbie questions. “Not you, her!” I laugh harder and Zach growls in my ear. “Are you watching the show, like, together?” “Yes!” “Aw, that’s the cutest, pussiest shit I have ever heard—ow! Stop throwing things!” Robbie yells. “Whatever. I’m outie. Don’t wait up, bitch.” A door clicks closed in the background and an exasperated sigh slips through Zach’s lips. “Can we hit play yet?” “Yeah, Zach, we can hit play, but can I ask you something first?” “Shoot.” “Are you really touching your dick?” Zach mutters a “Dammit, Delia” before saying, “I’m hitting play.”
Because I’ll let you touch my butt?” My body quakes with laughter the moment the words leave his mouth. “What? I’ll have you know I have a fantastic ass, Delia. You’ll want to touch it, and you’ll want to touch it often.”