Page 53 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

“Oh, don’t start playing that game. Like I don’t know you well enough to have noticed that. What’s wrong? You mad at me because you didn’t have a good time?”

She averts her eyes back to the television. “I never said that.” A moment passes while she chews and pretends to watch the movie while I can see the wheels churning in her head. “I actually had a really good time. You were right. We have a lot in common.”

“But…”

There’s definitely a but.

I can always tell when she’s holding back, and she’s definitely holding something back from me about Dan.

She shrugs. “There doesn’t have to be a but, does there?”

I shake my head and take a bite of pizza. “No. There doesn’t always have to be a but. It just seems like there always is.” Especially with the guys she’s been dating lately. And if she really did like Dan, I would think she would have come over here raving about him and thanking me for setting them up. Her apathy speaks volumes. “Are you gonna see him again?”

The words burn leaving my mouth, and my throat tries to close around them. As if one date isn’t bad enough. A second one would probably kill me.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. He asked if he could call me, and I said, yeah, but I haven’t heard from him today.”

“You probably won’t.”

Shit. That sounded harsh.

Her head whips around, and she narrows her eyes on me. “Why? Did he say something? Did you talk to him?”

I shake my head. “No. Just a guy-code observation.” I shove another bite of my piece of pizza into my mouth and finish chewing. “He’s gonna wait to talk to me at work tomorrow to see if you said anything about him first. He doesn’t want to appear overly anxious or desperate or anything like that.”

She laughs and covers her mouth, half-full of pizza. A second later, she swallows and her eyes flicker with amusement as she examines me. “Really? Aren’t we a little old to be playing these what did he say about me/what did she say about me games?”

I point my half-eaten piece at her. “You’re the one who just asked me if I talked to him and if he said anything, so it seems like you’re both acting like children.”

She presses her perfect-bow lips together in a firm line. “Touché.” Her focus returns to the movie. “Hey!” She waves at the TV. “Start the movie over again. We missed the beginning.”

I grab the remote and rewind it to the beginning.

She finishes the last two bites of her pizza, shifts closer to me, and drops her head against my shoulder, leaning her small body into me. That flowery light scent I will always associate with her invades each breath. I try my best not to stiffen—my body or my cock—at the contact and breath through my mouth so I don’t inadvertently bury my face in her hair to take a whiff.

I switch my pizza into my left hand, wrap my arm around her shoulders, and tug her closer. The first zombie appears, and she yelps and jumps, snuggling even tighter into me.

Tonight is going to be torture.

AGAIN.

* * *

RACHEL

I shouldn’t be contacting him, but I haven’t been able to get his message out of my head since brunch this morning. Even though Alicia goaded me and tried to get me to reply while she sat there, looking over my shoulder, I just couldn’t do it. At least not with her that close. I needed time to think about whether I wanted to reply at all.

When I commented on his feeds, I never thought he’d respond in the thread, let alone in a private way. Lots of viewers make comments—hundreds every single time he does a feed. And he’s never given any indication that he has replied to any of them.

What was it about mine that made him feel like he needed to reply? And why the hell can’t I stop myself from typing a response to his now, hours and hours later?

Probably because I can’t sleep after watching that horror movie with Flynn.

I thought some blood, guts, and gore might take my mind off everything—my homesickness for Bash and Jameson, my loneliness and desire to find love, my unwise attraction toward the mystery man on the screen—but I was so wrong.

Being snuggled up against Flynn felt so good.

Too damn good.

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