Just a couple more hours. He grinned.
“Oh, sorry.”
The athlete turned beet red, unaware of how hard he was hugging Big Ben until the shrill computerized melody rang out in the crowded but quiet store. 9
When Ben tapped on the attachment that arrived with the email and “Lady Marmalade” began, Kat looked up from the game she played on her phone. This time, they were in his room.
“From your new boyfriend?”
Ben read the text. “Whadda ya say, B? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? Maybe a group of us? HMU. I am SO ready to do it with you!”
“Oooh. Sounds like,” Kat said.
“Vijra,” Ben told her. “Club Gold karaoke, I assume.”
“Assume nothing, Piglet. Especially not after that note in your gym bag.”
* * * *
A new text came almost every hour.
“I Want Your Sex.”
“I Touch Myself.”
“Let’s Get It On.”
Vijra was a fan of the oldies. Still, Ben couldn’t help but notice a theme.
* * * *