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Rob: Bring him to drinks.
Flynn: You know there’s no way he’ll do that.
Flynn: We aren’t even going to see him until his special friend is back on a plane and headed home.
Dalton: You know what that means.
Barclay: He’s going to sell the buildings you live in if you don’t get your acts together.
Rob: Let us have our fun.
Flynn: Spoilsport. What’s it mean??
Barclay: Don’t you dare show up at his house.
Dalton: I think it’s a great idea.
Flynn: I’m inclined to agree.
Rob: The lot of you are the worst.
I squirted another jet of cheese onto my tongue and tapped out a reply.
Me: Don’t you dare show up here.
Flynn was quick to respond.
Flynn: Here? So you’re home already?
Shit.
Me: No.
Rob: The plane’s been back for over an hour.
Me: I swear I’m never using any of your services ever again if you’re going to keep me under surveillance.
Rob: Good.
Flynn: Drinks at Archie’s???
Me: Please no.
Dalton: What will you give us if we let you say no?
The water in the guest room turned off, throwing the house into absolute unbearable silence. I swiped over to the music app on my phone and set something playing through the Bluetooth before taking one more dose of cheese and returning the can to the fridge.
Me: I’ll bring him out this weekend, but right now is not the time.
My camera system pinged an alert that flashed across the top of my phone letting me know there was movement outside. I tapped it open, finding Flynn’s grinning ass in my driveway, ass resting against the hood of my car. He waved up at my camera and I mentally gave him the finger.
Me: Tomorrow.
Dalton: I think that’s fair.
I watched the camera feed, Flynn’s stupid grin as he went between eyeballing my camera and looking down at his phone.
Flynn: Fine. Tomorrow.
