Page 101 of Instigator

Colt is happy. Robby doesn’t seem to be a serial killer. Aidan and I are able to socialize with them as a couple.

Check, check, check.

At half past nine, Colt makes a point of checking his watch. “Okay, it’s time for you to leave now,” he says with an awkward chuckle.

“Aw, you’re getting rid of us already?” I tease.

Aidan chokes.

“I love you, but I don’t really like you right now,” Colt fires back.

“Relax, dude. I’m leaving. You and your boo can go get freaky now.” After rising from my seat, I round the table and hug him from behind where he’s sitting. “Thank you for dinner, Colty. Call me in a few days when your social battery is recharged.”

He sighs and pats my hand. “You’re a menace.”

“And don’t you forget it.” I kiss the top of his head. “Robby, it was great to hang out with you. We’ll have to do it again soon.”

“Maybe Hailey and Ryan can join us next time,” he suggests, glancing at Aidan carefully.

“That would be great,” he says, to my surprise. “We’d love to.”

Oh, that man is so getting a blowjob tonight.

thirty-eight

. . .

Aidan

I wake to a cold, empty bed. Blinking blearily at my watch, I struggle through blurry eyes to find the time. Four o’clock.

Where is she?

I throw back the sheets and stuff my feet into my slippers. The apartment is chilly, even with the heat on, so I throw on a T-shirt too.

The soft glow of light filters under the door, and I pad through the hallway to the kitchen. Ceci sits at the table, wearing my T-shirt and headphones, hands flying across her computer keyboard. She doesn’t look up, completely in the zone.

How long has she been at this? She doesn’t have anything to drink in front of her, and for a self-proclaimed beverage gremlin who requires three types of beverages at all times—water for hydration, a caffeinated drink, and something with bubbles—it’s very unusual.

I cross the kitchen and fill a glass with water, then add an electrolyte packet to it. She’s been obsessed with the cherry-limeade flavor lately, so I add that in and stir until it’s all dissolved. It’s late, so she probably won’t want coffee. I flip the switch on the kettle and retrieve a can of Coke Zero from the fridge. It still has caffeine, but it’s not a keep me awake drink for her.

She’s also probably hungry. Dinner was tasty, but that was several hours ago, and she’s always good for a middle-of-the-night snack. More than once, I’ve caught her rummaging around in the fridge in the middle of the night, stuffing her cheeks with cheese and cashews like a human-sized chipmunk.

I pull one of the divided snack plates out of the cupboard. Technically, it’s a children’s plate, but she says it’s her preferred vehicle for snacks because the compartments keep the food from touching, so who am I to judge. In a few quick minutes, I cut up a cucumber and an apple, peel an orange, then make a turkey sandwich, sliced into triangles with the crust cut off.

There are two sections left, and I fill it with a handful of trail mix and then some potato chips. Sweet and salty, fruits and veggies for fiber, healthy fats in the nuts, and protein in the sandwich. This way, she can sit and pick at it for as long as she needs, and it won’t go cold or stale.

The kettle whistles, and I fill a mug with hot water and add her favorite lemon-ginger tea with a generous squeeze of honey.

Ceci still hasn’t looked up from her computer. She doesn’t even stir when I set the three beverages and snack tray down beside her.

When I drag a chair out across from her, the legs screeching on the floor, she finally looks up and knocks off her headphones. Confusion creases her face. “Hey?”

“You’re up early. Or late.”

“Had an idea. Couldn’t sleep until I sketched it out.” She reaches for her soda, then pauses. “Did you do this?”

“No, the magic snack fairy did it.”