Page 33 of Edged
“I live here.” Flynn thumped his head against the headrest and, without looking, sipped at his coffee.
“I meant why did you come out and bring me coffee?” I asked.
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
I took a careful sip, the hot and bitter brew a welcome taste in my mouth. “Thank you for the coffee,” I said.
“Does this have to do with the canned cheese?”
I sighed, grinding my molars together. “Can you just ask Rob about it? I’ve already told him the gist of it.”
“Absolutely not. I’ve known you longer than him and we’re far too old for games of telephone.”
Flynn had a fair point, but the thought of having to tell the story about me and Owen three more times sounded about as appealing as nails on a chalkboard.
“Believe it or not, the canned cheese doesn’t have anything to do with my visit.” I scrubbed a hand down my face, frowning when my stare landed on a dried cum spot on the front of my pants. “I ran into an ex of mine this weekend.”
“I didn’t think you even had an ex.” Flynn made a perplexed sound in the back of this throat that almost sounded like amusement. “I’ve never seen you date anyone more than twice.”
“He’s from back home,” I said. “Before I came out here for grad school.”
“High school sweethearts?” Flynn gave me a teasing smile, like he’d found out some great secret that no one else knew.
“We were friends,” I corrected. “I used to date his sister.”
Flynn narrowed his eyes, and his jaw worked from side to side while he tried to piece together the information I’d just given him. “You dated siblings?”
I shook my head. “I dated Mandy. I…slept with Owen.”
Flynn let loose a low whistle. “You didn’t strike me as the type.”
“Exactly.” I took another swallow of coffee. “I’m not.”
“So, what happened then?”
“I ran into him at Rapture, of all places. I gave him my phone number, which was stupid, but he’s always just…” I gestured weakly toward the side of my head.
“Redirected your blood flow elsewhere?” Flynn offered.
“Something like that.” I scratched the corner of my eye until I accidentally stabbed myself with the sharp edge of my fingernail. “Anyway, I let my cock get the better of me again, but Owen’s about to be on a plane back home, so it’s over and done.”
“Again.”
I grunted in agreement, ignoring the implication that we’d alreadyhadan again.
“I just wonder sometimes…” I stopped myself from finishing the thought, because no good ever came from daydreaming over could-have-beens. Instead, I finished my coffee and then poked Flynn in the bicep with the empty mug. “If you’ll let me come inside for a second cup.”
He rolled his eyes at me and grabbed the empty mug. “You could have come in to begin with.”
“I didn’t want to wake you up.”
Flynn shouldered open the passenger door and I climbed out of the driver’s side, following him up the smooth concrete walk to his front door. He had a nice place on the outskirts of Westwood, all smooth and shiny, with giant paned windows that stretched from floor to ceiling in most of the rooms. The house was dark, save for a small chandelier that hung in the foyer, barely illuminating the entry area. I knew Flynn’s house like the back of my hand, though, and I followed him through to the monstrosity of a kitchen at the far end of the house.
Admittedly, it was one of my favorite rooms, sleek and pristine like the rest of the place, with a breakfast nook designed for relaxing with a massive window that overlooked a surprisingly lush and decadent back yard. The greenery just beyond the glass offered a much needed pop of color to the rest of the design, and I was happy to collapse into one of the chairs while Flynn busied himself pouring us fresh coffees.
Flynn made his way toward the table and set both mugs down before dropping his ass onto the cushion with a sigh. He had a hummingbird feeder hanging from the gutter outside and I watched how rapid-fire a hummingbird flapped its wings while coming to take a drink of the bright red sugar water.
The bird was like me with Owen, I realized.
