Timmy smirks instantly. “That sounds hot.”
“Not like that,” I groan. “I mean—yes, that too, but—it’s just forehead kisses. Cuddles. Hand holding. Every night, I drop hints, and every night, he tucks me in like I’m made of glass. Like he thinks I’ll break if we…” I wave a hand, too embarrassed to finish.
Lane blinks. I can’t take him seriously with crumbs stuck to his lips.
“If you do the sex?”
“Yes!” I hiss. “That.”
Theo gasps dramatically, flopping back into his blanket fort like I just announced the end of the world.
“But Ilikeforehead kisses and cuddles!”
“Well, I like dick,” Timmy cuts in smoothly, smirking. “Daddy dick. And apparently…” He points a finger-gun at me. “…so do you.”
I bury my face in my hands. “Why do I talk to you people?”
“Because we’re brilliant,” Lane says flatly, talking around a mouthful. “And because you need us. Which means…” He adjusts his cat-ear headset as if he’s about to issue orders. “…we’re hatching a plan.”
Theo sits up, eyes sparkling. “A seduction plan!”
Timmy claps once, delighted. “Yes. Operation Get Keane To Rail Oren.”
“The name is a work in progress,” Lane mutters.
My stomach lurches. “Absolutely not. No plans. No operations. Nothing involving me and the word ‘rail.’”
But it’s too late. Theo’s already grabbing a glitter gel pen and notebook, Timmy’s flexing in the corner of my screen hoping inspiration will strike, and Lane’s quietly typing as though he’s building a tactical spreadsheet.
And I know, with the sinking inevitability of doom, that I’ve just handed them the keys to my downfall.
Theo crawls out of his fort and sticks his face in the camera.
“You should totally cook dinner naked! Like, surprise him with pasta and no pants.”
I can barely cook! “Absolutely not. There will be sauce splatters and second-degree burns.”
Timmy cracks his knuckles. “Fine, fine. Candlelight massage. You know, romantic oils, towel on the bed, slow undressing.” His eyebrows waggle ridiculously.
“He’ll think I’m possessed. Or having a midlife crisis.”
“You’re only twenty-four,” Timmy points out with an eye roll.
Lane wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Strip poker. Lose on purpose. Problem solved.”
Strip poker?! “I don't even own a deck of cards.”
Theo gasps. “Then buy one! Buy glittery ones!”
Jeez Louise.“No glitter. No naked cooking. No card games. We’re not doing this.”
Timmy asks, “What about lingerie?”
“Do I look like I own lingerie?”
Theo perks up. “But you could! Pink lace, little bows?—”
“STOP,” I groan, burying my face in my hands.
