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He planted his feet. “It’s been more than the two weeks, but I cut you a break considering attack by psycho god, and a change in your training and all that. But we pinky swore, and I want the chapters. I’m going to curl right up with them tonight.”
“I’d really rather you—”
He put on his serious-as-fuck face. “Pinky swear, girl.”
“Damn it.” She stomped off to her office.
“Her book? What is this pinky swear? I want to read it.”
“No.” She said it firmly as she stomped back out with a flash drive.
“Why can he and I can’t?”
“Because he put me in a bind.” She held the drive just out of reach. “Now you swear, Marco Polo. Not a page more than we agreed. There’s more on here, but you stop at the end of the second chapter.”
“Aw, Breen.”
“Pinky swear.”
“Fine, fine, fine.” He hooked pinkies, then snatched the drive.
“This is an oath?” Keegan hooked his two pinkies. “Why is it an oath?”
“Why is anything? Trust and honor. Two chapters, then stop, and no reading them while I’m around. It’ll make me crazy.”
So saying, she headed straight for the stairs with Bollocks.
“Why does she smell like goat poop—that’s goat poop, right? Because I think it’s the first time I’ve smelled that smell.”
“I’ll tell you after I convince her to let me read what you read.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
She stripped down in the bathroom, tried not to think of anything but hot water and fragrant soap.
She’d barely stepped into the spray, into the jets, when the glass door opened.
“Really?” she said when Keegan stepped in with her.
“I’m after a shower as well.” But he ran his hands up her as he pressed against her back. “And you. Hot water feels good, as you do.”
He pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I want to pinky swear with you.”
“No.” But the way he said it made her laugh. “No and no.”
“You have no trust in me, think I have no honor.”
She turned, and as the water rained down, the steam rose, shoved her now wet hair back. “I have absolute trust in you, and know no one with more honor. And still no.”
“Why do you let Marco?”
“Because he put me in a bind, and before I could get out of it, pinky swear. I’d hoped he’d forgotten.”
“Then I’ll put you in a bind.” He poured some of the shower gel she’d made with Marg’s help into his hand. “Then we’ll pinky swear.”
“No,” she repeated.
But she didn’t say no to the rest.
