Sorry, Right Number

By Alex Winters

Levi Erickson runs Mama Mozzarella's, his family pizzeria in sunny Seabreeze, South Carolina. It's a peaceful existence, a little lame, a lotta boring. That is, until the day he tries to text Rexy, his perpetually late part-time employee but writes his old flame Rex instead. Little does he know that Rex has just gotten back into town himself and is eager for a little reunion ... in more ways than one!

Rex Carroll has come back to Seaside for one reason and one reason only: to watch the premiere of Undead Hookers from Venus III at the Seabreeze Cinemas. After all, he's just completed the soundtrack and, despite his creative success, the movie's financial failure has left his resources depleted and owing back rent on his crummy apartment back in LA.

When he arrives in town and gets the wrong number text from his former boss and old flame Levi, Rex can't believe his good luck, or perfect timing. Now all he has to do is convince Levi age is just a number, and the sweltering kiss they almost shared his last night in town four years earlier was perfectly natural and long overdue!

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Jun 11, 2025
• ISBN: 9798896020189

Alex Winters

Alex Winters is the pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys long walks with his wife, scary movies and smooth jazz. Visit him at www.awintersromance.com to see what stories are brewing up next!

Book preview

Sorry, Right Number

By Alex Winters

Published by JMS Books LLC

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2025 Alex Winters

ISBN 9798896020189

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author's imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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Sorry, Right Number

By Alex Winters

Chapter 1

Levi

"So, you're really not gonna say anything, Rex?"

Levi Erickson glanced up at his part-time counter girl, Rexy Franklin, standing just inside the doorway of his pizza parlor, Mama Mozzarella's. In reality, there was no Mama and they used low-fat mozzarella, but nobody who wasn't on the payroll needed to know how that particular sausage got made.

About what? That bad haircut of yours?

Levi rubbed his stubbly head instinctively. You don't like it? He'd seen it in a men's magazine at the dentist the week before and had liked it. Felt it was time for something new, upstairs and downstairs. Leave it to some barely legal cheerleader to dog him immediately about it.

A late barely legal cheerleader, at that.

I mean, normally you wear a hat at work, so it should be fine.

Rexy sauntered behind the sales counter and slid her denim backpack purse littered with faded K-Pop boy band pins off one shoulder, sporting her yellow Mama Mozzarella's work shirt with the smiling, dancing ball of cheese just beneath the familiar pizza parlor logo.

No, not my haircut, Rex, my text.

What text? This time, Rexy looked sincerely curious. She whipped her ever present phone out of the pocket of her work shorts and scrolled across the screensaver like a miner panning for gold. Levi, there's...no text from you. Did you call?

Levi wrinkled his nose, peering closer at the phone Rexy waved in his face. Sure enough, the last text he'd sent had been some innocuous request to pick up a few bottles of root beer on her way into work.

Two weeks ago.

That's weird, I texted you like five minutes ago about being late.

As if on cue, both their eyes darted to the digital clock on the wall above the timecard punch. Predictably, Rexy rolled her sea-green eyes, absently tucking strands of bottle blonde hair behind her ears. "Boss, 3:17 is not late."

"Rexy, your shift starts at three, not at 3:05, not at 3:10 and certainly not at 3:17."

His favorite, albeit brattiest, employee, fresh off her latest stint as Homecoming Queen and reigning head of the cheerleading squad at Seabreeze Senior High, rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Where is all this coming from, Levi? You and I both know that the social contract states I come in a few minutes late every shift and, in return for being your baddest-ass, most reliable, fun and entertaining, not to mention sexiest employee, you don't actually, you know...say anything about it?

Levi had to give her that much, struggling to hide the begrudging smile that slithered across his lips ever so reluctantly. Yes, I know Rexy, that's the usual social contract, but I actually have someplace to go today, so--

Where? Rexy was immediately suspicious, pinning him with those sea-green eyes and studying his so intently he had to look away lest she peer into his very soul.

Levi paused. He should have known better than to engage in a war of words with this particular hellcat. Wherever I want, he stammered, still avoiding her eyes while staring down at the laminated menu that covered the service counter beneath his tapping fingers. I do have a social life, you know?

Rexy rolled her eyes, trading her backpack for a flour-stained red apron and draping it over her honey blonde pigtails and across her tightly stretched work shirt. Lemme guess, there's a new zombie movie opening today over at Seabreeze Cinemas, right?

I, I mean, I... Levi stammered, wishing he hired dumber, slower, less vibrant, interesting, hilarious and vaguely detective-like employees instead of the rowdy but lovable crew he'd assembled ever since taking over the family business just after graduating high school six years ago. Maybe that explained why