Page 72 of Buried Dreams

“I’m assuming we are taking this with us?” He holds up the pink vibrator in his hand that I keep in the shower.

I can’t help but laugh when he turns it on and the sound of vibrating now fills the room. “It’s a good one, for sure.” I wink at him. “There is a blue box under my bed,” I say. “Toss it in there.”

He gasps. “You have a treasure chest and didn’t pack that first?” He walks over to my bedroom and comes out with the box in one hand, placing it on the coffee table. “After we finish packing, we’ll go through that and see.”

“Don’t promise me a good time, Brock, and not follow through.” I point at him. “We won’t even have a bed here.”

“I booked us a room,” he informs me, and now I’m the one gasping.

“I thought you said we would just camp out like we did back in the day.”

“Baby, we are both too old to sleep on a wood floor. And we are sleeping in a king-size bed in a hotel. We’ll even order room service. It’ll be like camping.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “That isn’t like camping at all.”

He puts the pink vibrator in the box and then turns back to the bathroom. “Are there any more toys I should know about?” he asks over his shoulder.

“I’ll let you find out,” I sing at his retreating back before I go back to cleaning my desk. I put all my documents in my backpack when he comes out with a box with the word “bathroom” on it, and he puts it in the corner of the room next to the luggage.

My phone rings at one thirty, telling me they will be here within the hour. I take a deep inhale when the buzzer rings, walking over and opening the door. Two guys are waiting for me, and two more guys are hanging out on the stairs. Brock tells them he can lend a helping hand to make it go quicker. I point at things as they slowly start to empty my apartment. I thought I would feel a touch sadder, but it’s more of a happiness than anything. They carry out the last box at the same time as someone is coming up the stairs. Brock comes out of the apartment, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Hey,” Patrick says, giving me a chin up and a sly smirk. “You’re back in town.” He stops at his door across the way from me.

“Yeah,” I reply softly.

“You moving out?” he asks after he opens his door.

“I am,” I confirm. He puts his hands on his hips and then takes in Brock, who comes to stand next to me.

“That sucks.” He either has a death wish or couldn't care less that Brock is staring daggers at him. “Well, hit me up if you are ever in town.”

“Yeah,” Brock says, “you wait for that, buddy.” He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me inside, slamming the door behind me. “Friend of yours?”

“Um.” I hesitate, looking up at the ceiling and moving my head side to side. “He was a friend that?—”

“You fucked.”

“Sort of?” I tell him, and his eyebrows go up. “Okay, fine, we used to hook up from time to time.”

“More than once?”

“Sort of.” I put my hands on his abs. “It was more of, ‘Oh hey, you’re home, I’m home.’” I can see his neck get tight. “But obviously not now.”

“Obviously,” he growls with his teeth clenched.

“Why don’t we load up your truck and take off?” I urge him. “You have that whole hotel room waiting, and I have to thank you for today.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, walking over to my luggage and picking it up while I go and grab a box of linens. It takes four trips up and down before the apartment is empty. I walk over to the little counter and put my key down on it before turning and walking out, the door locking behind me. Brock puts his hand in mine and ushers me down to his truck.

I get in, taking one more look at my building before he drives out of the parking lot, stopping in the corner near the dumpsters. “What are you doing?”

“Got to toss something,” he says, and I think he’s going to throw out some of the takeout containers we accumulated on our drive here. I watch him get out and round the front of the truck, opening the back door.

I look over my shoulder, seeing him snatch my treasure chest. He slams the back door closed, and the next thing I see is the chest flying through the air, opening as a couple of my vibrators fly through the air with it and land in the dumpster. I gasp at the same time he opens his door and gets back into the truck. “You did not just do that.”

“Oh, baby, I just did that. There is no fucking way that was coming home with us, knowing that you used it with someone else.”

“I cleaned them”—I scowl at him—“and I didn’t really use all of them with him. Just a few.”

He puts the truck in drive and looks over at me. “I can’t believe you right now.”

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