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FootGuyBob tips.

Fine.

I sit back down and bring one foot up onto the edge of the chair, angling it toward the lower corner of the frame. The lotion is on the desk, waiting like a punchline.

“You guys are making sure I’ve got the prettiest little piggies in the hood.”

My phone buzzes beside the laptop.

I glance down.

Bentley84.

My pulse changes before I read it.

Zane lose again?

I laugh. It slips out low and stupid and surprises me enough that I look away from the screen.

The open chat reacts immediately.

MouthyMike: ticklish?

BigDog469: who’s making u laugh

I ignore them.

I type back with one hand.

Zane is biologically incapable of winning.

Bentley responds almost immediately.

That sounds like the title of his memoir.

I laugh again.

Damn it.

The open chat starts yelling at me for secrets.

“Relax,” I tell them. “Some of us have friends.”

BigDog469: i can be friendly

“You can be something.”

The chat eats that up.

I set my foot down and shift in the chair, letting my knees part.

But my attention keeps sliding to the private window. Finally, he enters.

Bentley84: Seriously. Did you win?

I should lie. Men are allowed to lie about three things online: height, size, and sports performance.

HotnReddy: Lost by two.