“I know, baby. And you will. Just not yet.”
I huffed a helpless laugh. “Please tell me you haven’t hired someone to go through my trash.”
“No. But we need people to take your picture. We need you to answer calls, respond to interview requests, post on social media. We need you to be visible and accessible. And if you’re visible, you need to keep your security team close.”
I nodded, hating she was right about the security team. “Okay. I’ll get online somehow and send Dave my address. There’s enough room here for him and the other guys.”
And there went any plans I might have had of peace and quiet. I liked my security staff, but they were such guys. They never did their dishes and left stuff all over the place.
I ended the call frustrated but covering it well. I promised to call her again in the morning and returned my attention to the ground beef on the stove. It wasn’t the shredded beef I preferred for my tacos, but I wasn’t complaining. However, if my mother had been here, she would’ve been horrified.
I’d just figured out how to turn the heat on again when I heard the front door open and close, followed by a bellowing, “Sienna?”
I smiled, my spirits immediately lifting at the familiar voice. “I’m in here, Hanky-panky. But don’t come in, I’m naked. And getting a gynecological exam. And having a mole removed.”
“You aren’t naked.” His rumbly chuckle greeted my ears, and he appeared in the doorway at my right.
I glanced over at him. My good friend was leaning against the door frame, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. A crooked, happy grin made his typically stoic features handsome.
“Well, I was naked. But I got dressed really fast when I heard the front door open.”
“And sent your doctors away?”
“No. I was conducting my own GYN exam with a mirror and an ice-cold speculum, and removing my own mole. I hope you don’t mind if I used your steak knives for that. I’ll sterilize them after if it’s a problem.”
He made a face and strolled to the fridge, grabbing a beer. “You’re so gross.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. And I can’t wait to tell you all about my colonoscopy.”
“Just stop.” He lifted his hands to ward off my words, though he was laughing.
I’d taught Hank this ritual. It was a game I’d played with my siblings growing up, one we’d indoctrinated Hank into when he’d spent a weekend with my family during our freshman year of college. At the time, we were kinda, sorta dating.
The purpose of the game was to disgust each other. After the weekend ended, we quickly moved into friend-zone territory. It was a good lesson for me to learn about being too open—being my true, odd, gross, kooky self—too soon. I knew better now.
My willingness to share this tradition was based on his claim of being impossible to offend. Our backgrounds were as different as two people could be, but we’d bonded over disgusting boundary pushing. As a result, all romantic spark quickly fled and was replaced by poop jokes and buddy drinking. I became his wingwoman, he became my wingman, and the rest was history.
“Fine. I’ll stop. But I really wanted to show you this polyp that looks like Pluto’s heart-shaped crater—” He stepped behind me and closed a hand over my mouth, cutting me off, and bringing the back of my head to rest on his shoulder. I felt his body shaking with laughter.
“No polyps,” he demanded.
I lifted my eyebrows. He knew what I wanted to hear.
Hank sighed, his hand slipping away and squeezing my shoulder. “You win, okay?”
“Say it,” I pressed.
“Fine. Fine,” he grumbled. “You disgust me.”
You disgust me was the key phrase. It meant I won this round. I hadn’t been keeping track, but I was pretty sure I held claim to the championship at this point.
My grin was immediate, and I did a little victory dance in front of the stove. “Spatula, spatula in my hand, who’s the most repulsive in all the land?”
“Come here, doofus.” Hank started to laugh again as he swatted the wooden kitchen tool away so he could pull me into a proper hug.
I wrapped my arms around his torso and sighed against his chest, relaxing into the comfort of his embrace. Hank gave good hugs; quality, full-body hugs. They reminded me of my family’s hugs. I decided if this was my only chance in the house without my security team, then I might as well make the most of it.
Separating from him, I pointed the spatula at the fridge. “You stocked the fridge. Thank you. Make sure to send the receipt to my sister so we can reimburse you with the rent.”
He nodded. “Yep. Already done. She transferred the money yesterday.”