Then my cell phone buzzes again. I can’t quite get it out of my pocket because my arm is so bloody. Astley reaches down and pulls it out for me.
“You’re blushing,” he says.
“You just reached in my pocket. It’s kind of intimate.”
He smiles a wicked smile and hands me the phone. “There is candy in here as well.”
“Skittles,” I explain. “I like them.

Carrie Jones