Bzzz…
“Were you fantasizing about Twenty Watt?” His stern face breaks into a smile, hand pressed to his heart. “Tell me the truth, mushroom. I can take it. I will be absolutely devastated and a good bit disgusted andwhollydisappointed in you, but I can take it.Ugh. Go on, rip off the Band-Aid.”
“You think I was getting off to… to Brandt? Head rower on the Olympic douche canoe team ten years running?” I can barely say his name in this context without gagging. “Gross! No! I was just… relaxing. Alone. Now leave.”
Bzzzzzz bzzz bzzz.
“Wait, one more question. Why does your sex toy keep clamoring for your attention? Has it not finished the job?”
“That’s two more questions, and…” I sigh and sit up straight again, tucking the blanket tight around my waist. No way out of this but through it. “It’s haunted. Okay? Now go back to the couch and pretend this was all a dream.”
“Your vibrator is haunted?” Devlin stares at the buzzing drawer. Then at me. Tries desperately,desperatelynot to laugh again, which, okay, I give him at least ten points for trying.
“Objects get haunted,” I say defensively. “Sometimes.”
“I’ve seen a lot of possessed objects in my time, mushroom, but a haunted sex toy is a definite first. How is this even possible?”
“I’m not sure,” I say honestly, because yes, Idohave a spreadsheet tracking all the research I’ve done on the subject, and the nerd in me can’t help but respond to the genuine curiosity pulsing through Devlin’s energy. “Haunted objects are typically the result of the previous owner having some sort of intense spiritual attachment to the thing—like if it was the bed where they gave birth to all their children, or the fire poker they got murdered with. But I bought this thing brand new,obviously, so I don’t know how it got possessed.”
Bzz bzz bzzzz.
Devlin taps the buzzing nightstand with an elegant finger. “Does it frighten you?”
“What? No way. Mr. Wiggles is the sweetest, most hard-working—”
“I’m sorry, did you say… Mr.Wiggles?”
Oh, fuck… Ididsay that. Batting a thousand tonight, girl. Truly.
“That’s his name,” I say defensively.
“The ghost, or the toy?”
“The toy. The haunted part isn’t a ghost, per se.Thatwould be creepy.”
“Right. Of course. When discussing haunted vibrators, the last thing we want is for things to get creepy.” Devlin finally lets out that laugh, and even though I’m 150% sure I’ll wish I was dead come tomorrow morning, right now his laughter is so contagious, and the situation so ridiculous, I can’t help but respond in kind.
“No ghosts,” I clarify. “Just some kind of stuck spiritual energy.”
“Stuck energy. Stuck in a pink dildo. That gets stuck inyourpink—”
“Devlin!”
“Just saying, it’s not a bad way to spend the afterlife. I might look into it myself as a potential option. One can never plan too far in advance for these things.”
“Thankfully, you’re immortal.”
“And this is one of the rare times I’m regretting it. In any case, just how hard-working is this Mr. Wiggles fellow? Perhaps he could use an assistant. Share theload, so to speak. Pun mostdefinitelyintended.”
“Share theload? Are you kidding me right now?”
“It’s a perfectly legitimate line of inquiry. Not to mention an excellent pun.”
Bzzzzzzz.
“We talked about this! Use sexy words, not gross ones! Goddess, you belong in the locker room with a bunch of frat boys.”
“I beg to differ. Load is ahighlysexy, not-at-all-fratty word.”
