Page 58 of Bad Love

They exchange a look, a silent inside joke that ends with her flushing and him staring at her as if wishing they were alone rightnow.

"We're not a success story," Renasays.

I frown, looking between them. "Wasn't that the first thing you guys did? See if you matched through your DNA platformthingy?"

"Yes," Rena says at the same time Wes says, "No."

I shake my head. "Well, if you're matching people successfully through DNA, maybe we should all signup."

My faith has evolved in my twenty-six years on Earth. I believe in God, but I also believe in science. I don’t believe the two areincompatible.

Ben leans in. "Youshould."

Wes rolls hiseyes.

"I was joking,” I say. “But why don'tyoutry it?" I challengeBen.

He laughs. "No. I can't date where there's a paper trail. Women know who I am, they want me for mymoney."

It had never occurred to me, but maybe Hunter has the same issue. I have no idea how much money he has, but judging from his family, it's probably alot.

Daisy elbows him. “Dating’s hard for everyone, rich boy. Kendall has a son. That must beharder.”

I blink, surprised to be put on the spot. But everyone here is a friend, and I don’t feel as uncomfortable as I thought I would. “I don’t really date. It's hard to get serious with someone unless I know how he'll be with my son. Unless he knows what he's gettinginto."

Daisy cocks her head, curiosity on her face. "You've never introduced a man tohim?"

"No… actually, that's not true. Rory met Hunter last week," I say without thinking. The second it's out, I realize my mistake. "Err, he stopped by to see me aboutsomething."

Daisy doesn’t notice my awkwardness, or if she does, she doesn’t comment. "Wes, you don’t know Logan, but Ben would. You remember Logan Hunter, Benji? From school? He's Kendall'sclient."

The man she’s addressing stills for a second, his thick brows drawing together. I assume it's because she called the richest man I've ever met “Benji” in an unironic way… until his face splits into a laugh. "No shit. I remember Hunter. Remember when he did that frat fundraiser? What was it foragain?"

"Prostate cancer. No one else wanted to take it on. Hunter called up the arts students, had cartoon penises and testicles made up, and decorated the frat house with them. The charity tried to denounce the event, but it raised three times what any of the othersdid."

Rena’s staring at me with one brow arched, and it takes a second for me to realize it’s because I’m leaning halfway across the table. I push myself back a fewinches.

But I’m curious. I can see Hunter doing that. He'd make a charming frat boy. And even though he’s infuriating at times, I like how he doesn't apologize for what hewants.

Across the bargaining table or in front of me, his cocky mouth on my sensitive skin like he's branding me with that tonguering.

Ishiver.

We weren't even intimate, not really. But it felt like it. It felt as if he opened some door inside me and released somedemons.

Which I will promptly pack away to focus on the life I’m building for my son andmyself.

I take a long sip of my drink, remembering what he said about the vibe that started us down that dark path.It has to fulfill every desire a womanhas.

As the conversation continues around me, as I’m alone and surrounded by friends and colleagues at once, I realize one thing:he wasright.

The vibe isn’t good enough. Because even though I hate to admit it, he made me come, not the vibe. It was Hunter's rough voice, smug mouth, and confident hands that knew what I wanted. What Ineeded.

I don’t even know where to start in processingthat.

Something itches at the back of my brain, synapses bumping.Colliding.

"Ben," I blurt, "how would you make a vibrator that knows what youlike?"

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