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Yep, it wasn’t looking promising.
****
“It was…” Why had Ender made me promise to call when I got home? “It was fine. They were very nice.”
Texting him before I’d left their house was easy but I hadn’t really wanted to call him. For some reason when he could hear my voice, Ender always knew when I was lying. He didn’t even have to look at me. It was kind of frustrating, honestly.
I’d even tried just texting him and telling him I was home after I’d texted Harper nearly the same thing, but he’d texted me back a countdown starting at five. I’d caved before he’d gotten to one but I didn’t appreciate the pressure.
“It sounds like you’re describing an old lady you met at the grocery store.” He was probably glaring at the phone, but he was using his concerned voice, which was very manipulative of him.
That was my job.
“It was fine. Honestly.” I wasn’t sure how to describe it. “Dinner was good. We found stuff in common. They’d met the weird people with the sex toy trunk too. This town really is too small.”
I was still shaking my head as I walked through the house toward the kitchen. I wasn’t hungry but I needed… something. Yes, I needed something.
“Don’t try to distract me with weird stories.” Ender’s interruption made me sigh because I had lots of good stories… and they were all very distracting.
“They answered all my questions very clearly and I never felt like a third wheel.” That was actually more impressive than it might’ve sounded. “I felt… they were bookends.”
Yes, that was better.
“I was in the middle. It was…” I knew not to use fine, but picking out another word was hard. “That part was comfortable.”
As I started rummaging through the pantry, he made a low, thoughtful sound that made me start to question if that’d been a bad word too. I liked comfortable, though. Comfort food. Big blankets. Stuffed animals. There were lots of wonderful, comfortable things.
I tried to find a way to explain what I meant as I pushed around food in the pantry to see if I’d managed to hide any cookies from myself long enough for current me to find them.
“Like really good mac and cheese. The rich and creamy kind, not the box kind.” I liked both. Anything with cheese was wonderful but I wanted him to know what I meant.
Damn.
Past me had eaten all the cookies.
Past me was very greedy.
He gave a low huff that was him covering up a laugh. “Fine. I’ll acceptcomfortableas a good thing.”
Before I could count that as a win and shift the conversation, he kept going.
He was so stubborn.
“Comfortable is generally not a word associated with erotic activities. Maybe kissing, but that’s it.” There was a calculating tone in his voice that said he wasn’t going to let the conversation drop.
Groaning wouldn’t help and it’d make him think he was right but it took a lot to hold back. “I would have to agree that kissing can be comfortable.”
And probably really good aftercare or post mind-blowing sex, maybe?
“What happened after your good dinner and comfortable conversation with your bookends?” He was going to keep pushing until he got all the details but the way he was asking reasonable questions made it hard to tell him to mind his own business.
Not that he’d listen anyway.
“Gaylen and I figured out we both loved serial killer stuff and Harper didn’t seem to mind the topic, so we went back to their place and watched the first two episodes of that new documentary series.” And I hadn’t watched all of the first episodes… I’d just caught a lot of clips that’d been posted online.
So I hadn’t lied to Gaylen.
“Serial killers?” Ender’s groan made me shrug even though I knew logically he couldn’t see me. “Trouble, then what?”
