She looked at him flatly. “So it’s okay ifyouget sex trafficked?”
She was still just a baby, so Finn didn’t tell her that yeah, he wouldn’t mind picking up at Pride—afterhe’d seen Imogen off home safely. Just to clear his head, of course. By getting Robbie out of it.
“I’m decent,” he protested. His running shorts covered his entire ass, even if they did sayThe only ethical consumption under capitalismon the back. And he was wearing appropriate footwear of close-toed sneakers with crew socks in the bi pride flag colours.Plus sunscreen. He was basically dressed like a nun.
Gail cupped his face, careful not to smear the stripes of paint on his cheek, and said kindly, “You look very slutty, sweetheart.”
“See,” Finn said to Imogen.
Then Gail turned her gaze on Holly. “Look at you! Wow. The ladies of Toronto are not gonna know what hit them.Lovethose boots on you.”
Holly flushed scarlet. “Thanks, Mrs. Graham.”
Gail winked. Poor Holly.
“All right, all right, quit flirting. Let’s get this show on the road. The train’s gonna be packed.”
Finn was right about that, but today he didn’t mind. Most of the car’s patrons were dressed—or undressed—for the occasion, which made being in close quarters interesting. Imogen did a little gawking, but she always caught herself quickly, and honestly, if people didn’t want to be looked at, they wouldn’t wear bondage gear in public.
They got off the metro at Bloor-Yonge, which might have been close to the action but wasn’t quiet, and eventually made their way topside.
“All right, Grahams,” Holly said as they reached the intersection. She kissed Finn’s cheeks and ruffled Imogen’s hair. “This is where I leave you.”
“You’re not sticking around?” Imogen looked caught between pleased and disappointed. Finn understood the second, the first less so. Maybe Imogen really wanted some one-on-one sibling bonding time?
“Sorry, hun. I love you, but me and my girls”—she glanced down—“are off to meet my girls and have some more adult-oriented fun.”
“She’s gonna drink and talk about boobs,” Finn translated.
Holly smacked him with the back of her hand. “Don’t give away my secrets. You’re ruining my mystique.”
Imogen giggled and held her arms out for a hug. “Have fun with your girls.”
“And you have fun with yours,” Holly said with a kiss to Imogen’s cheek and a wink at Finn.
Finn flipped her off and fluttered his lashes. He should probably drink less around Holly and stop spilling secrets.
Who was he kidding? He didn’t need any encouragement to tell her everything.
Imogen waved as Holly swept away into the crowd, and Finn wondered if he should wipe away the lipstick mark on the kid’s cheek.
Instead he pulled out his phone, snapped a picture, and showed her. Imogen glowed.
God, he loved his baby maybe-queer sibling.
“Where to?” she asked with eager eyes.
Laughing, Finn pointed her in the direction of Church. “Time for some rainbow mecca joy before parade hour.”
The street was pumping with activity. Shops had propped their doors open to encourage community, and several had stations next to them to hawk wares, give away samples, or just spread cheer.
A worker at a café handed Imogen a small rainbow flag, and they picked up temporary tattoos at a bookstore.
Throughout, Imogen clutched her phone—not an unfamiliar sight, and not surprising as she was definitely snapping photos. But he was surprised by the amount of texting. It didn’t match her usual patterns during special events.
They’d just disentangled themselves from a couple of effusive drag queens—they’d eyed Finn like candy before they noticed Imogen, then cooed over her and offered friendly advice that included staying with her big brother and aiming for the groin if she met any persistent creeps—when Imogen’s phone buzzed and she lit up.
She lifted her head and looked up and down the street. Then she grabbed Finn’s hand and dragged him to the next intersection. “We need to go this way.”
