Chapter 24

JOEY

She's avoiding me.

It's okay, I was prepared for it. In fact, the speed with which she scuttles out of the therapy room the minute I walk in each morning is kind of hilarious.

I'm taking Brett's advice and biding my time—and it appears to be working because, at night, when Lynn is tired and her guard is down, she texts me. It's almost like we're long-distance dating, something I've never done before. The benefit is that we're getting to know each other; the drawback is that I don't get to touch her or look at her pretty face.

But I do know how she likes her eggs (over easy if she has toast or potatoes, scrambled if not) and that her life's aspiration as a child was to become a zookeeper until she found out how much poop is involved. I've shared things about myself with Lynn too. I even confessed my most embarrassing moment—the time I ate the donut of the customer sitting next to me, thinking it was mine the whole time and glaring back at him when he kept glaring at me. And Lynn still texts me!

I'll admit there are nights after she texts me goodbye that I jerk off to thoughts of her. It's impossible not to.

I want more, but I can't push for it just yet. She needs to be the one to come to me and cross that line—to give me reprieve from the dreaded friend zone. Brett had better be right about this. I'm going to kick both him and myself if Lynn starts dating someone else. I need to keep putting myself in her orbit, even if it's mostly electronically for now.

As if she knew I was thinking about her, a text pops up on my phone.

Lynn:

I'm going gumshoeing.

I stare at my screen for a few seconds and lean forward on the couch to rest my elbows on my knees.

Me:

I'm sorry. What?

Lynn:

Maybe it's not a word. Let's go with sleuthing instead. Although that sounds boring in comparison.

Me:

Are you a closeted Hardy Boy?

Lynn:

Nancy Drew, thank you very much.

Me:

So what is this about, Nancy?

I mute the game on TV so I can focus on Lynn.

Lynn:

My dad had this valuable Bigfoot carving that my brothers kept by the register at Blue Bigfoot until last year when somebody broke in and stole it.

Me:

Wow. That sucks.

Lynn:

Yeah, but a customer came in last week and told Miller he thought he saw it at a gallery in Raleigh. I just talked to the customer today and got more details. But since the gallery doesn't have a photo of it on their website, I'm going to drive to Raleigh and check it out in person.

Me:

Can't you just call the cops?

Lynn:

They won't do anything with a third-hand possible sighting. I need to make sure it's really Larry before I do anything.

Me:

Larry? And I thought Priscilla was a fluke. I see naming inanimate objects is a family pastime.

Lynn:

You'd understand if you saw him.

Me:

When are you going?

Lynn:

Tomorrow. The team isn't back for a couple more days, and I'll make an excuse to my brothers.

The team is in Colorado, and I'm not sure if I'd rather be here or out there. Either way, I'm not playing. The pain in my wrist is lessening each day, and I'm starting to do some actual strengthening exercises with Nora, so at least it feels like I'm making some progress. She even let me ditch the splint for good, which makes almost everything easier. It hasn't stopped me from watching my replacement's stats like a hawk, though.

Me:

Why aren't you telling your brothers? Wouldn't they want to get the carving back as much as you?

Lynn:

I sort of want to get a leg up on them. They've boxed me out of a few family fiascos, so I'm taking the lead on this one. I figure if I find Larry, I can run a victory lap around the taproom.

Me:

Your family is kind of messed up, you do know that, right?

Lynn:

Nah, we're totally normal. I promise.

She has me grinning with that one.

Me:

Right…

Me:

Okay, I'm in.

There's no way I'm sitting here on my couch while Lynn is traipsing across the state looking for stolen goods. Not that I think she's in any danger; I'm just bored as hell, and I want to spend time with her.

Lynn:

???

Me:

I'm coming with you.

Lynn:

Uh, no.

I laugh out loud because I can perfectly picture her expression right now.

Me:

Why not? It's not like I have anything else to do.

Yeah, it's a little sketchy playing on her sympathies, but I'm going stir crazy.

Lynn:

I don't know if it's the best idea.

Me:

Are you saying you won't be able to keep your hands off me if I come along?

Lynn:

Somebody thinks a little highly of himself.

Me:

See, then you have nothing to worry about. I'll even let you drive my truck.

Clearly, I'm desperate.

Lynn:

Hmm.

Me:

A good friend never lets a friend road trip alone. It's in the handbook.

Lynn:

You might have a point.

Hell, yes.

Me:

Sounds like we're going on a road trip, Ms. Brooks. I'll make a playlist.

Lynn:

Leave the playlist to me, Daft Punk.

Me:

Deal

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it's done.

I settle back on my couch and smile to myself. All right, I suppose it wasn't such an accomplishment considering how easily she gave in. Who knows? Maybe she's already reconsidering the friend thing. Fuck, I hope so.

I picture her lying in her bed at her mom's house, and my cock is so easily swayed, it gets half-hard at just the words "Lynn" and "bed" residing in the same sentence.

The TV goes black, and I toss the remote on the couch and head down the hall. My condo sits on one of the top floors of a downtown high-rise with views of the town and access to a rooftop pool. It's decently sized, with two bedrooms and an office, but my favorite part is the gigantic whirlpool bathtub in the master bath. That thing is worth its weight in gold after a rough game or a doubleheader. It's big enough for three people, not that I've ever tested its limits. But it's what sold me on this place—that and the building is an eight-minute drive to Ardent Park.

I consider the tub for a few seconds and then decide I'm not a guy who wants to swim in his own spunk unless there's a woman on top of me. So I flip on the tap in the shower and shed my T-shirt, shorts, and boxers before getting in. The shower is oversized too, with two showerheads and a tile bench seat. I picture myself sitting on the seat with a naked Lynn straddling me, and my cock goes from half-hard to full-staff just like that.

As the hot water hits my back and steam starts to billow around me, I take my cock in hand and begin to stroke myself, imagining Lynn's Cheerwine-red lips pulling me in so deep my balls hit her chin.

I close my eyes, and my head drops back on a groan. Lynn's delicate fingers wrap around my base as she releases me from her throat and strokes my length before sucking me back in again. Fuck, I'm not going to last long. She releases me again to let her tongue rasp against the engorged head of my cock as she pumps me with one hand and cradles my balls with the other. When the vibration from her moan blazes from the head to my balls, I get impossibly harder and take over.

"I want more," she begs, and who am I to say no?

My hands cradle her wet hair, and I watch my cock drive into her mouth and past her tongue. She moans again until she's cut off by my cock down her throat. I hold it there, almost passing out from the squeeze for a couple seconds before pulling back to allow her a breath. Then she's got my ass in one hand while her other slides down between her legs to stroke herself. The hand on my ass urges me forward again, and I fuck her mouth while she gets herself off. When she moans her pleasure on my dick again, I lose control and come hard down her throat.

My breath comes in gasps as I float back to reality and feel the pounding water on my back again. One hand extends to support me against the shower wall, and I open my eyes to see that, of course, I'm alone in the shower. But the image of a naked Lynn on her knees with my cock in her mouth and her hand between her legs is compelling enough that I jerk off one more time before falling asleep, utterly exhausted.