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ME: You have a point. Snacks and sex toys do go together.
COLTON: Exactly. Please replenish your snack drawer for Friday. I like Doritos.
ME: I am not buying you Doritos.
COLTON: Fine, I’ll bring my own snacks and put them in the drawer.
ME: Whoa there, Speedy Gonzalez. You’re not infiltrating my drawer. That’s the first step to a serious relationship. Get your own snack drawer in your own nightstand.
COLTON: You wound me.
ME: I’m very protective of my snack drawer.
COLTON: What about the sex toy drawer?
ME: If you must bring anything, bring batteries.
COLTON: What size?
ME: I’m kidding.
COLTON: I’m not.
I choked on my own saliva.
All right.
It was looking like this Friday night was shaping up to be better than last week.
ME: You’re insane.
COLTON: I’ll bring a few types.
ME: You’ve lost your mind.
COLTON: I must have, I’ve been sleeping with you for months.
ME: I’d be offended if I didn’t feel the same way about you.
COLTON: Always a pleasure to be on equal footing.
ME: Mhmm. So tell me more about this girl.
Why did I say that? What was wrong with me? Did I want to be more miserable than I already was?
COLTON: Nothing to tell. She messaged and Kins had logged into my account, told me to look because she was my type. So I did.
ME: Naturally. Why wouldn’t you? Is she your type?
Stop fucking talking, Tori.
COLTON: Depends if she has a snack drawer next to her sex toy drawer.
I choked again.
COLTON: Kidding.
Damn it.
COLTON: On paper, she’s my type. Didn’t work out well with Amber though did it?
ME: You just wanted different things. You can’t compare that relationship to one you might have now. You guys were teenagers when you got together. It’s not like you knew what you wanted back then.
COLTON: That’s true. Cora does seem nice.
I didn’t like Cora.
Highly irrational of me, I know. But, look, if you were me, would you like her?
No, no, you wouldn’t.
Nobody would.
I didn’t care if she was gracious and kind and built houses in Africa.
I didn’t like her, I wouldn’t like her, and nobody could tell me any different.
The Petty Train is calling at the station, one ticket to Pettyville, please.
ME: There you are, then.
COLTON: Are you encouraging me to go out with her?
ME: No. I’m just saying that if she seems like your type then you should probably go for it.
Seriously.
Tori.
Shut the fuck up, you idiot.
COLTON: This is a very strange conversation for us to be having.
ME: You brought it up.
COLTON: True.
COLTON: I guess I’ll message her.
ME: You do that.
I buried my face in the blanket and screamed into it. What was wrong with me? Seriously? Why would I do that to myself?
It wasn’t like I was trying to be a good person or supportive friend. Mine and Colton’s relationship was about as complex and fucked up as a person’s could get. I could barely stand to be around him, yet we could text for hours, and when we were alone, I couldn’t get enough of him.
When we were alone, I never wanted him to leave.
And here I was, texting him, telling him to go out with someone else.
I rolled onto my back with a groan, accidentally kicking Genevieve in the process. She glared at me, her bright blue eyes like little beacons in the low light, and snuggled back in to go to sleep.
I needed help.
Serious, serious help.
***
“I said I’m fine.”
Saylor blinked at me. “So you’re not fine.”
I gave her a withering look. “I have a ton of stuff to do. Can we get this meeting over and done with?”
“Do you talk to all your clients this way?” she asked, leaning over and double clicking on a file on my laptop.
“No. Only the ones who make me create dirty things.”
Saylor beamed. “This one. This is the one for this.”
The one she’d clicked on was the ‘Book Whore’ text design. She’d made me do it for no reason other than to piss Holley off, and I was going to avoid her because I was the messenger. That was it.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Yep.”
“Okay, I’ll finalize it and send you the files you need.” I quickly renamed the file so I wouldn’t forget and shut it down. “All right. I need to go.”
“Sit down.” She grabbed my t-shirt and dragged me back down. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well last night.”
“You’re so full of shit farmers want to spread you on their fields,” Saylor shot back.
“Who’s full of shit?” Kinsley appeared from the back. I didn’t even know she was here.
Now I definitely couldn’t bring it up.
“Me, apparently. I didn’t sleep well, and Poirot over here thinks there’s something wrong. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Kinsley said honestly. “What’s wrong?”
I wasn’t getting out of here alive, was I?
“Okay, fine.” I held up my hands. “I’ve been casually seeing someone. Nothing serious, just a really super casual thing.”
“So it’s sex,” Saylor offered.
