Page 48 of Playing Hard to Get

“Umm, it's time to go,” Frankie told me.

I grimaced and silently cursed the slip of my attention to the time. My bag was sitting on my bed waiting for the last few items to be thrown in. Or thrown out, if I couldn’t bring myself to pack those toys.

“Oh, yeah.” I shook my head and glanced at the copper clock hanging on the wall by the kitchen. “Sorry, I didn't realize it was so late.”

“You all packed?” Vinny asked. He smirked at me and I glared daggers at him, which made him laugh.

“Just about. Let me finish real quick.” I jumped off the couch as gracefully as I could and rushed off to my bedroom. On my bed, next to my suitcase, sat the three toys Mitch talked me into. A vibrator, a bright purple dildo, and the toy that had me shaking before I clicked the purchase button.

I couldn't bring myself to use them. Couldn't bring myself to open the last one. I heard a noise in the other room and grabbed all three of them. I shoved them along the edges of my suitcase and tossed a handful of sketchbooks and my latest look book on top before I zipped it shut.

Back in the living room, Vinny and Frankie had made themselves comfortable. Vinny was spinning my broom in his hands as he sat on the couch. They were laughing. Like the good old days, when we were kids, when all we wanted to do was have fun and play. When the broom we stole from the broom closet was one of our favorite toys, and standing in the foyer pretending we were in our own band was one of our favorite games.

My music was back on but quieter. I went to Vinny and grabbed the broom, spinning away from him before he could stop me.

We always fought over the broom. Whoever had it was the singer, and the other two had to play backup.

It was my turn now. I belted out the words, shaking off all my worries, all my cares, if only for a minute or two. Frankie jumped out of her chair and was by my side for the chorus. And when Vinny joined us, singing and dancing along, it felt like I'd been transported back in time.

I loved this. I missed this. My brother and my cousin, nothing between us but friendship and—dare I say it—love. I hadn’t felt this free since my childhood. Back before Frankie's mom and our grandmother passed away. Before Daddy started dragging us to work with him and drawing us into all his expectations for our lives. Back when we all knew how to have fun.

When the song was over, Vinny wrapped his arms around my and Frankie's waists and pulled us to him. I leaned my head on his shoulder and swallowed the lump in my throat when he laughed and kissed my forehead.

“You two are crazy,” Vinny said after kissing Frankie’s cheek. “God, I miss being a kid. Hanging out with you two all day. No worries. No cares. Just the three of us having fun.”

“Come with us, Vin.” The words came out of my mouth without a thought. Without a glance at Frankie. But when I looked at her, she was nodding.

“Yeah, Vin. It’ll be fun. Just the three of us.”

His arms tightened around us. “I can't this time. I've got some things I need to take care of here.”

Frankie pulled a pout straight out of her childhood. Our grandmother would give her anything after a pout like that. But Vinny smiled and shook his head before letting us both go.

“I'm sorry, girls. Maybe next time. You two go have fun. Don't tear apart the city too much. I want there to be something left when I join you next time.”

Vinny grabbed my suitcase as I got my phone and tablet. We followed him to his waiting Town Car and loaded ourselves inside. At the airport, I gave my brother a great big hug. As he squeezed me in his arms, he whispered in my ear.

“I don't expect you to tell me anything, Viv. But I'm glad for whatever it is that's made you so happy.”

I closed my eyes and squeezed Vinny tight. “Me, too, Vin. Me, too.”

* * *

My first night in New York, after a late dinner with Frankie, I went to my hotel room alone. I wanted to talk to Mitch. To hear his voice or to read his words on the screen of my phone. Just like we’d done nearly every night since he went away. But he was busy with his clients. Daginger, the one he was called away to deal with, was a walking disaster. He was ready to cancel the contract with LS Security, all because Weston stifled a yawn after forty-eight hours without sleep.

Mitch’s presence helped enough for them to keep the client. Although he didn't say much about it, I got the feeling that the guy put him through the ringer. When he called me two days after he left, he spent most of the time in silence, and when he did talk, he was in a sour mood. I wished I could have been there for him. To give him my shoulder, my ear, my body. Whatever it was he needed.

Before Mitch was done with that job, another of his clients came calling. From the sounds of it, it was some spoiled brat who needed a babysitter, and Mitch drew the short straw.

I hated that I couldn’t be with him. All those months of running away, and when I finally gave in, life had to get in the way.

The first night in New York, I spent hours staring at the toys I brought with me. Thinking of using them made me both wet and anxious. I didn’t know why I was so worried. It wasn’t like I hadn't pleasured myself before. I'd just never done anything with a toy.

My finger prodded at the dildo. Beyond the garish purple color and the lack of body heat, it felt astonishingly real. I'd been away from Mitch for too long, away from real sex for too long. I drew a hot bath and brought the purple toy in with me.

There was no substitute for the way Mitch controlled my orgasms. But this toy? Oh, it helped. Between the heat of the bath and the fullness between my legs, my entire body relaxed in a way it hadn't for weeks. I slept like a baby that night and I spent far too much time thinking about the toys while Frankie and I shopped the next day.

I'd never considered myself a klutz before. The control I maintained over myself extended to making sure I didn’t look like a fool. But with my mind on my fantasies, I found myself bumping into clothing racks and tripping over the smallest bumps in the tile floors. By lunchtime, I was a hot mess. My anxiety over my loss of control only compounded my guilt over hiding everything from Frankie.