Page 104 of Snap Shot

I lean forward and the girls do, too. “In anhour.”

Gabe's eyebrows fly to the middle of her forehead before she reaches for her icy drink. Bea uses the menu to fan herself and loosens the flowy chiffon fabric of her blouse to allow airflow.

“And he used” —I clear my throat— “help.”

“Which one?” Gabe whispers.

“The Dongshow.”

My girlfriends gasp in chorus. I'd been raving about that vibrating dildo and its magical ability to pound out orgasm after orgasm ever since Sheena's sister-in-law gifted it to all the bridesmaids during her bachelorette weekend.

“Iknow. I never thought it'd be better having someone else use it on me.”

“You lucky bitch.” Bea places her cheek in her hand. Her dark brown eyes go all dreamy.

“Kurt wouldnever.” Gabe tuts. “He gets so jealous.”

Of a dildo? Red flag #293708374028374.

“Ew,” Bea blurts.

I kick her under the table, scowling before focusing on Gabe's downward expression.

“I thought you said he does…good.”

Gabe shrugs. “Itisgood. Doesn’t mean it couldn’t be better.”

Neither Bea nor I have any words of solace.

“Anyway. This is about you and Gym Guy. I still can't believe you haven't…” Gabe makes a slurping sound as she inserts two fingers into the hole of her fist. “Or caught feelings.”

“I mean” —I lift both shoulders—” that's why there are rules. No expectations, no feelings.”

“Uh-huh.” Gabe quirks a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Seriously! It's all in good fun.” Right, good fun. It has nothing to do with how he showers me with affection, or calls me baby, or sends me filthy, needy texts, or how those calloused fingers press roughly against my cl—

Bea snaps in front of my face. “Hellooooo? Anyone in there?”

Gabe shakes her head. “You're a goner. You may not have had the dick, but the dick got you.”

I know she's teasing, but I can't help but deny it. “Hey! That's not—”

“Don't look!” Bea cuts my protest short and scrambles to prop our menus upright.

Gabe peeks over her menu and I make the mistake of glancing over my shoulder.

“I said,don'tlook.”

All six of the Regents' starters stroll through the restaurant, led by a blushing, giggling hostess.

“Ugh. I hate that guy.” Gabe shrinks down below the top edge of the thick page.

Bea keeps her voice at a whisper behind the menu wall. “Which one?”

“Wade Boehner. He embarrassed the hell out of me at that press conference.” Her mouth warps into a sneer.

“I’d let him get away with murder. He’s so pretty,” Bea states, her gaze lingering.

---