Page 47 of Sour Notes

I’m a grown-ass woman. I can exist in the same space as him without jumping his bone(r)s. We’ve lived together a lot over the years, and it’s only happened twice—never where we actually sleep either, for the record.

Besides, I’ve made the executive decision not to drink too much while we’re away. You know that whole “loose lips” saying? Well, given our track record, it’s proven way too real for me… I’ll let you decide which set of lips I’m talking about.

Here’s hoping our hotel room will have some kinda pull-out or sofa for me to sleep on. Pretty sure some of them did when I checked out the website. If not, I’ll have to rely on my own self-control to keep my legs crossed, and that’s feeling a little wobbly right now.

Trust me, if you’d dry humped two hundred and twenty pounds of pure tattooed muscle against the hallway wall yesterday, you’d be spiraling too.

Ugh… why am I like this?

In an effort to distract myself, I grab my laptop and take a quick peek at my emails, but there’s no word from Editor Jen on when I can expect my new playmates to arrive.

Amazon Prime she's not, dammit.

The timing of this article couldn’t be more perfect, though. I desperately need a new vibrator. I glare at my nightstand, where the toy in question sits. I can’t risk using it when Swayze’s home because it’s as discreet as a jackhammer—maximum noise, minimum pleasure. A bit like the orgasms I faked with the two pump chump I was dating. I really should’ve replaced it ages ago.

And no—I know what you’re thinking—I’ve not faked a single one with my roommate, but we aren’t going there again today.

Or any other day.

Sucking in a deep breath, I try to push him and those feelings out of my mind.

Work. Let’s do some work.

It’s time to deep dive into the world of modern sex toys. What else is going on out there these days? Hopefully, we’ve moved on from the viral suction rose—pretty, but hella disappointing. I regretted jumping on that bandwagon with my whole ass.

Scrolling, I see a whole bunch of new options for your playmate pleasure, including but not limited to, a cute little penguin vibe that sucks your brains out. I’m not sure I can hold a penguin to my coochie in good conscience.

There’s a dildo shaped like a hand. I shit you not. Brings a whole new meaning to the term high five.

Yep, I’m giggling right now. Maybe I’m not mature enough for this today.

Ha!

Monster dick replicas. Oh my god, Haven’s bachelorette present. She’d lose her mind since she had us reading a monster romance not long ago—and Axel’s face would be priceless.

It’s soooooo on.

Humming Will Smith's “Wild, Wild West,” my fingers hover on the add to cart button when the front door slams so hard I almost drop my laptop, my pulse kicking up in a wild gallop.

What the actual fuck?

If someone’s broken into our house, I am woefully unarmed. Urgently eyeing up my nightstand for anything I can use, I come up empty. I’m not sure launching my old vibrator will do any real damage. There’s always my laptop I guess—if my hand-eye coordination doesn’t fail me and everything’s backed up in the cloud. I hope.

Before I can even move off the bed, my bedroom door surges open so fast it hits the wall behind it with another huge bang.

I shriek, lifting my laptop before relief and annoyance wash through me in equal measure.

“Swayze, what in the ever-loving Hulk is this?!” I yell, dropping the laptop back on the bed. “There’s this thing called ‘knocking’ that civilized roommates do to avoid a laptop aimed at their skull.”

Silence.

“I could’ve been masturbating, you know?”

Nada.

No reaction.

What the fuck is going on with him. He isn’t even looking at me right now. That masturbation line at least deserved a blink, jeez.