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I do see my little furball at the bottom of the bed. He makes me smile. “Trex, you’re supposed to sleep in Luke’s room, not mine. Did you miss him last night?”
Meow.
I shake my head. “You’re not exactly the kind of man I want in my bed.”
Meow.
“Don’t worry, Luke will be home later.”
I hear a loud voice, “Beth! Where are you?”
I don’t answer.
Cassandra walks into my bedroom and sighs. “There you are. Why are you still in bed? Why is your cat the only male in your bed? That’s step one to becoming a cat lady.”
“Ugh. Leave me alone to wallow in my old age misery.”
“You’re turning thirty-five, not ninety-five. Do I have to remind you how old I am?”
“Yeah, but you get to fuck a hot thirty-two-year-old every night, so it’s different.”
“It’s not everynight.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Really? I thought it was. The honeymoon phase is finally over?”
She gives me her mischievous smile. The one where I know something absurd is about to come out of her mouth. “It’s morningandnight. And if we have time for office visits, sometimes during the day too. He’s extremely virile.”
I scowl at her. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” She throws a box on my bed. “Here, I figured yours is about to die from overuse. Happy birthday.”
I look and see that it’s a new vibrator.
I shake my head. “You’re the worst sister ever.”
She lets out a laugh. “Or the best. You’re welcome.”
I inspect it carefully as Trex paws at the box. “That looks very elaborate. I’d need a master’s degree just to be able to understand how to work that thing. I prefer simple.”
She walks over to my night table and opens the drawer, pulling out my vibrator.
I stare at her in shock. “I think touching another woman’s vibrator is a severe boundary line that should not be crossed.”
She examines it. “This model is at least five years old. You need an upgrade.” She tosses it in the trash can. “I got you the latest and greatest. It practically fucks you by itself. You don’t even need to do anything but lay there. And if you prefer it on top, there’s an attachment that holds it up for you.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “There is something truly wrong with you.”
“I know, but my husband totally digs it.”
I mumble, “You’re both nuts.”
“Maybe. Come on. We have the whole day. Let’s get going.” She pulls my blankets off me and audibly gasps. “No wonder you can’t get laid. What fucking thirty-five-year-old owns a granny nightgown? Burn that thing. Immediately.”
“It’s comfortable.”
“Naked is comfortable. Granny gowns are ugly, and they repel men.”
“You sleep naked every night?”
