Page 4 of Butterfly Effect

“Whatever.” A haphazard tucking of my shirt back into the suit pants made a louder rustle than intended. “This isn’t the last time we do this, eh, Finch?”

“Oh, Pretty Boy.” Gabe patted my face with enough force that it could’ve been confused for three slaps. “This is absolutely, one hundred thousand percentneverhappening again.”

Fuck, I’m gonna come.

My toes curl over the wet marble, knees and thighs shaking. The steady speed of my hand syncs with the beat of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene,” and I mutter the namesake lyrics before coming in my fist, vision white and Gabe’s name on my stifled breath.

“Wow.” A yawn sounds out. “Jolene’s a lucky lady.”

I huff out a laugh at Vanessa’s comment while recovering from the high. A few splashes from the cascade rinse away the filth. “Not really. It’s that song. By Dolly Parton.”

“That’s what you beat off to?”

“Hey, good rhythm is good rhythm.”

I step out to dry off, then throw my boxers and slacks on before leaning on the counter. Vanessa continues to battle a tangled bobby pin as I guide her between my knees.

“Here.” I reach for the knot of hair. “Let me.”

Vanessa turns, her back to my chest, hands on her legs in wait. The pin relents, and I display its defeat in her sight line.

“Thanks, Wade.” She returns the pin to a twisted strand while glancing at me. “You’re boyfriend material, you know that? If you wanted to be.”

I trill my lips and stroll to the bed. “Nah. I’m a good fuck, though.”

“Are you? It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten.” She tosses a sarcastic smile my way.

Air hisses past my mouth. “Sorry about that.”

“Eh, it’s my fault, too.” Vanessa shrugs. “We’ll blame the chocolate stout.”

So she didn’t notice my cock was uncooperative.

“But don’t underestimate yourself.”

“Me? Never.” I lie back, tucking my hands behind my head, giving her a complete view of the goods, flexing my biceps, and curling up to show off my abs. “I’m thebestfuck. Is that better?”

“That’s not what I meant, but…” She trails off, taking the bait and eyeing my torso. My tongue pokes victoriously through my teeth. Vanessa ahems and straightens her sweater. “Thank you for that. And thanks for letting me crash.” She salutes weakly from her brow. “Wade. Always a pleasure.”

“Likewise. And Vanessa?” I jump up, breaking into a jog to meet her by the door. “Remember,uh, not to…?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Tell no one what you’re actually like.’” She imitates the deep timbre of my voice and shakes her head. “‘Gotta protect the rep.’”

“Thanks.”

“See you next time you’re in L.A.?”

“Sure. I’ll text you.”

She winks. “Sounds good.”

I stare at the pale blue wall for a split second after the door claps shut.

Then I’m back to the mental disarray, flailing on the bed with a hand down my pants, replaying the rest of that night with a woman I’ll never get to touch again.

This feeling can’t last forever. I haven’t slept with anyone in a year, but it has to happen sometime, right?

Soon, I vow to myself. Soon, I’ll be inside someone else and forget all about Gabe Finch.

---