Page 20 of Hide and Sneak
Each one gets slid into a lacy pouch, that’s then sealed in a plastic bag. The plain padded envelopes are discreet, for my benefit and theirs. The trip to the post office would be embarrassing if they weren’t. With each one, I send the client a message that shows the picture of me wearing them, and a picture of them in the lace bag with a message that they’re on their way.
It only takes me about half an hour to get them all ready to go. The trailer is quiet. Sutton probably went to bed. I’m not tired since I’ve been sleeping late the last few days so I grab my laptop and head for the living room.
Sutton is asleep alright, but he didn’t make it to his bed. He’s lying in the recliner with Dusty curled up beside his leg. Neither of them budge while I turn off the TV, put some music on, and get comfortable on the couch.
Third Place is my favorite game. It’s a life simulation game where you have a limited amount of control over the people you create. They’re called Smalls, and you can choose their interests, attitudes, morals, and values. When you’re playing, you can tell them what to do, but they also have free will to do whatever they want in between the orders you give them, which creates all kinds of chaos. That’s what makes it fun.
One of the Smalls I created a long time ago often fills his entire house with random objects. So far, it’s been umbrellas, lamps, and my favorite, stray cats. I solved that one by releasing a few dogs in there to clear them out.
I’ve been building a new neighborhood with the intention of inviting in some other random Smalls to help populate it. It’s a street of nice houses that ends in a cul-de-sac. The plan is to onlycontrol my Small occasionally, and set the rest loose to see what happens naturally.
I have a few new join requests since I played last time. The first comes from a player who wants to add three characters, a man called Stone, and two women, Jade and Crystal, who all seem fine when I check their bios. The other is another man called One Night Standrew. His bio shows he’s a man slut and the name alone wins me over. I want a typical neighborhood and what neighborhood doesn’t have at least one guy like that?
Requests approved. The new residents get moved into the houses I assign them and I settle in to play. About an hour into my game, I look up to see Sutton staring at me. At least, I think he is. His eyes are open to slits when he mumbles, “Damn it. Why am I dreaming about you again?” He shifts around in the recliner, closes his eyes, and goes still.
Okay. He’s out of it and talking in his sleep. As soon as I return to the game, he speaks again. “So sexy. I could make you come so good, Lila.” My head jerks up but he hasn’t opened his eyes and his words are followed by a snore.
What the fuck? Is he over there having a sex dream about me? I heard my name as clear as day. His bare chest rises and falls evenly, his hand resting on his abdomen. God, he’s all lean muscle. My gaze travels down a bit to the clear V of his hips above the low waistband of the sweats.
I wonder…
No. No, I do not. I don’t wonder a damn thing about him. Am I ovulating? Is that what this is? The way he said it, though.I could make you come so good, Lila.It turned me on, there’s no denying it. What a terrible way to find out I have voice activated genitals.
I’m back in my right mind by the next morning. Sutton is still asleep in the recliner while I make some coffee, but he opens his eyes when I sit down on the couch. Blinking against the sunlight pouring through the windows, he glances around.
“Shit. Did you roofie me? I didn’t mean to sleep in here.” His voice is dry and rough. He sits up and rubs his face, then looks down. “At least my pants are still on.”
“Don’t worry. Louise was very gentle.”
“Ha. Very funny.”
Amos comes through the front door, looking rougher than Sutton. “Those teenage girls next door are mean. They yelled from the porch that I give off little spoon vibes. I don’t even know what that means.”
“It doesn’t sound like a compliment,” Sutton laughs.
“You know, for someone who needed a place to live, you’re never here,” I remark, setting my cup on the end table.
“I’m a man in high demand, what can I say?” Amos grabs a cup of coffee from the kitchen and joins us.
“Did your date go well?” Sutton asks.
“Sure did. I’m going to see her again tonight.”
“Who is she and what’s wrong with her?” I tease.
“Remember Mandy Halm from high school?”
The name sounds familiar. “Redhead? Cheerleader?”
“That’s her. We dated for a little while my freshman year.” He smirks as he sips his coffee. “She said I’m the one who got away.”
“From the cops or a mental ward?” He tosses a throw pillow at me. “How do you like the new job?”
“It’s a job.” He shrugs and sits back. “I spend the whole time packing boxes but they let us wear headphones at least. I don’t hate it.”
I’m glad to hear it. Maybe he’ll stick with this one. My phone rings with a call from my mom. I’m in a pretty good mood right now and it’ll likely be spoiled if I answer. After I let it go to voicemail, Amos’s phone starts ringing. That’s who she really wants to talk about anyway, so let him answer.
“It’s your turn to talk to her. I’m not here.”
