Page 15

Finn:

I have NOT read that book a hundred times.

Fox:

The spine says otherwise.

Finn:

Fox!

There’s a longer pause. I imagine him sitting across from his best friend, trying to compose himself, Taylen probably asking why he keeps checking his phone. I smile at the ceiling.

Fox:

Dinner is ready, by the way.

Finn:

You made dinner?

Fox:

I found things in your fridge. I combined them. It’s edible.

So come home.

Finn:

I can’t. Not just yet.

Fox:

Come home, Finn. You see your friend all the time. Have dinner with me.

Finn:

I’m not leaving Taylen because you made dinner.

Fox:

Would you leave him for the appetizer?

Finn:

The what?

I stand and go back to the bedroom. I open the wooden box in the bedside drawer—the one I absolutely should not know about—and select a navy-blue dildo, which I’m going to boldly assume he got for me because he prefers topping.

Back in the living room, I get my phone and take a selfie. The frame catches just my mouth, my bottom lip caught between my teeth, the tip of the shaft resting against my lower lip.

You can’t see much, but you can see enough.

I send it and then wait.

Finn:

I’m on my way.