Me: Yeah. Best part of my weekend.
Finn: Better than the office?
Me: Oh, um . . . unfair question. Different good.
Finn: Fair.
Me: When can I see you again?
Finn: Tonight? Tomorrow? Literally whenever you’re free?
Me: Tomorrow. Dinner? Actual dinner, not bar food.
Finn: Like a real date on a Tuesday night?
Me: Like a real date.
Finn: We don’t have any events tomorrow, so I can leave Mark and Benji alone without worrying they’ll blow the place up.
Me: I’d really like that. The dinner thing, not the blown up bar.
Finn: Me, too.
Chapter 32
Finn
Everything was hazy, fuzzy in a way that made me wonder if I was deep underwater in some exotic cavern. The waking world tugged at my mind, but my bed—and the warmth of my heavy blanket—demanded far greater attention.
Then the buzzing started.
I was just awake enough to wonder,What the hell is that?
But it was persistent. No, it was insistent.
Buzz.Pause.Buzz.
It sounded like something vibrating atop the table by the bed, the one with nothing but a lamp and the alarm clock I’d used since my freshman year of college.
I tried to wake up, but random images, fragments of dreams or unconscious, poorly planned thoughts flashed in my head.
Why is there a vibrator on my nightstand? Andwhy would a vibrator pause itself, like it hit the wrong spot and needed to adjust before resuming its work? Why wouldn’t it just stay on?
My mind startled at the unbidden questions. I didn’t even own a pleasure wand, much less a battery-powered one. And yet, the vibrating continued, pulsing in ways that made my morning wood throb. If therewasa wonder bar somewhere nearby, maybe this dream could become—
Thud.
Buzz.Pause.Buzz.
I bolted upright.
The nightstand was empty. The dildo of death had fallen to the floor. I scooted so half my body hung off the mattress and stretched my hand beneath the bed.
It wasn’t the erotic excitement I’d hoped for.
It was just my phone.
A laugh escaped as I flopped back onto my pillow, offending device in hand. The screen was still locked, but I could see a series of text messages had just come through. I assumed they were from a certain attorney, and my heart threatened to flutter away like some horny butterfly determined to pollinate everything in sight.
