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I shift, trying to move his hand in the right direction. I always thought men not being able to find the clit was a myth. Guess not. He still doesn’t take the hint and, the more he rubs around, the more sober I’m becoming. Suddenly, this doesn’t feel good. Not even close. I push at Flynn’s chest, but he doesn’t take the hint.
“Let’s get naked, babe. I’ve got something we can take to make this even better, too.”
Someone knocks on the door calling out, “Hurry up in there. That’s my room, and I’d like to go to bed.”
Flynn groans, but I seize the moment.
“Let’s go get another drink, Flynn.” I kiss his neck. “Maybe we can find an empty room later.”
He frowns. “Fine.”
But he thankfully gets off me, adjusting himself. Hopefully he’s a grower because he’s definitely not a shower. Again, my mind goes to Odin. Damnit. I need to stop thinking about him!
Pushing myself off the bed, I fix my pants and follow Flynn from the room. The guy that we pass looks disgusted as he enters the room, slamming the door behind him. Flynn and I look at each other and burst into laughter.
It’s super late by the time the cab stops in front of Grandmama’s building. I glance at the clock on the dash of the cab. Oh my goodness. Does it really say it’s one in the morning? Call me a chicken, but I don’t want to go back to Odin’s place. I have a legitimate reason, though. Freja is super drunk, and I didn’t want to leave her alone.
Freja leans against me, mumbling, “Mom’s going to be so pissed if she’s awake.”
“Let’s hope she’s not.”
We pass a doorman, who nods at us. When I glance over my shoulder, he has a phone pressed to his ear. Unease courses through me, but I shove it away. Just because he has a phone doesn’t mean he’s calling Odin, even though I’m like ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain he is.
In the elevator, I whisper, “Do you still have my burner phone?”
“Yeah.” She taps her bag. “And the goodies Flynn hooked us up with.”
“I have a feeling I’m going to be in deep shit when I get home. Will you keep the phone until the wedding? And let Flynn know if he texts?”
“Of course.”
We’re silent as the lift takes us to the floor her mother lives on. Aunt Ayra is waiting when the doors open, her arms crossed.
“Where have you been, Freja Lynn? I tried calling and texting!”
Freja giggles, stumbling off the lift. “You worry too much, Ma.”
I follow, watching how genuinely concerned Aunt Ayra is about Freja. I know Freja likes to say she’s a black sheep, but I don’t get that vibe. Not with the way Aunt Ayra is acting right now.
Aunt Ayra sighs. “Do I even want to know where the two of you were tonight?”
“Probably not.” Freja giggles again. “That’s a funny word. Probably.”
She’s drunk enough that it sounds more like ‘prolly’ than ‘probably’.
Aunt Ayra turns to me. “Have you been with her the entire time?”
Freja jumps in before I can answer. “Yeah. Know why? Because it’s fucked up that she was told the dinner tonight was for close family members only! Her own mother said that!”
A look flashes across Aunt Ayra’s face as she looks at me. “Did Selma really say that?”
“Odin said it, too.” I pause, afraid to ask. “How mad are they?”
“They’re understandably upset. You didn’t leave a note, and they had no way of reaching you since you didn’t take your phone.”
I bite back a snide reply. Didn’t take my phone, huh? So that’s how they’re spinning it? Aunt Ayra obviously doesn’t know that I’ve been on lockdown and don’t have a phone at the moment.
I lower my head. “I should go to their house.”
