Page 8 of Badd Baby

“I…you…” she groaned. “Whatever. Anyway. I was calling because your fake date, Duncan? He’s a local. I was thinking maybe he'd have an idea, or something."

I groaned. "Linz, come on. Really? I’ve already roped him into going to the wedding for the sole intention of pissing off Hayes Motherfucking Willoughby.”

"Rune…it's Hamish and Raquel. Their wedding is ruined if we don't find a solution. Not to mention the fifty people who all bought flights and booked rooms. Can't you just talk to him? I know you've been texting him."

I've been at the Kitty every night, flirting with him, that's what I’ve been doing. We texted once, yesterday, and that was Duncan asking if he should have his tux dry cleaned or just wear a regular suit. I may have told him to wear his tux, even though no one else is going to be in black-tie; I'm funny that way.

"Fine. I'll get a hold of him later this morning."

"Rune—"

"Linz, he's a bartender. The bar closes at two, and he's the manager. He probably didn't get to bed until three. I'm not waking the poor man up at six in the morning."

"Ugh, fine. Be all nice and logical and shit."

"I'll let you know what he says the moment I talk to him, okay? I promise. I'll do what I can."

"You're the best, Rune."

"I know."

She vanished from the screen in a swirl of blonde hair, reappearing with a pink object in her hands. "Behold, Lady Clitoria, my second-best friend, giver of epic orgasms."

"When you say she goes everywhere with you…?” I said, as a leading question.

"Well, not everywhere. Like, I don’t just carry her around in my purse." She tapped her lips, thinking. "Although…a nice little lunchtime O might not be a bad thing."

"Linz."

She flapped a hand. "Anyway. The point is…you need to try yours."

"I didn't pack it, Linz."

She grinned. "Check your suitcase. The zipper pocket of the flappy-thing between the halves."

I left the phone on the bed, crawled to the foot end, and leaned over to check where she said. Sure enough, the "clitoral stimulator" was there, still in the box.

"Linz. I don't like sex toys."

“Only because you haven't tried that one."

"Linz—"

"If you're not getting piped, at least treat yourself to a good orgasm."

"Piped? You're so crass, sometimes."

"And you're strangely prudish, sometimes."

"You take that back, Lindsey Noreen Buckley."

“Not the dreaded full name!” she gasped. "Rune No-Middle-Name Rigby, it's true. You're very un-sexually liberated. You still hold to the toxic patriarchal system."

"Ohmygod. LINDSEY! I am not. I just…I don't do hookups. Casual sex is not my thing. I've tried it on multiple occasions, and it just doesn't do it for me."

"And how is monogamy treating you?" she asked.

"Poorly! Thus, the hiatus from dick. Men suck. They're all cheaters and liars. Unfortunately, I know for a fact I'm not bi or lesbian—I've experimented enough to know that, too."