<b><i>Mabel “Maybe” Willis died a virgin at the very young age of twenty-four. <br>She leaves behind her parents, Betty and Bruce, her brother, Evan, a laptop filled with one too many Jason Momoa memes, and a Kindle library with more books than one human being could ever finish in a lifetime. <br>Cause of death: a text message.</i></b> <br> <br>Okay. So, I didn’t die. <br>But I may as well have. <br> <br>One minute, I’m a woman trying to find her way in the world, and the next, I’m the sender of <i>six</i> of the most embarrassing text messages that have ever been sent in the history of time—or the cell phone. Whatever. <br> <br>We’re talking code red, send a flipping mayday, the apocalypse is coming kind of texts. <br> <br>And I didn’t just send them to some random person I’ll never see again. <br>No. That would be too easy. <br> <br>I sent them to <i>Milo Ives</i>. <br> <br>The man who played a starring role in all of my teenage fantasies—and my brother’s lifelong best friend. <br>And, boy oh boy, has he grown up. <br>He’s hard-bodied, blue-eyed, jawline-of-stone handsome, crazy successful, and has more money in his bank account than my brain can fathom. <br> <br><b><i>Deflower me, please?</i></b> I said. <br> <br>Yeah. Send help. <br>