Page 6 of Denim & Diamonds

Hours later, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark.

I wasn’t happy with Morgan, but I’d managed to stop seething over what she’d done.

Though not because I was any less mad. It was more that my focus had shifted.

To Brock. To the photos that were only a few swipes away.

To his dirty texts. To the remote vibrator app .

That last one had been the center of my attention for the last hour, and I couldn’t help myself…

I finally gave in and slipped the phone out from under my pillow.

On the third screen in, I was pretty certain I’d found it.

BuzzBuddy .

The name might’ve been funny if I were in the right mood. But I’d had a bug up my ass ever since Morgan had spilled about all the crap on Brock’s phone.

I stared down at the dumb app icon—a pink vibrator with a lipstick kiss on the side—anxious to click in. Though even that felt like an invasion of Brock’s privacy, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I went to Google and typed in BuzzBuddy.

BuzzBuddy—control your woman’s pleasure, even when you can’t be with her.

Beneath was an article that explained how the app worked.

Essentially, it connected to an insertable vibrator that could be controlled remotely.

The end user could do things like increase the vibrations and add G-spot stimulation.

There was also add-on hardware available, things like a clitoris massager and a prostate gland stroker.

Jeez. The thing supposedly even had the ability to determine when a woman had an orgasm.

I continued to scan the article, half reading and half not, until a certain sentence caught my attention.

The BuzzBuddy also records session history, including dates, times, and length of playtime.

That got me thinking…

Maybe I can just take a quick peek.

It wouldn’t be like I was reading his personal thoughts and messages.

It would only be some facts —dates and times.

Who knew? Maybe Brock hadn’t even used the thing.

I gnawed on my lip as I closed out of Google and swiped back to the app.

Let’s face it, I was never going to sleep without checking it out now .

And I was at a mental-health facility, for God’s sake. I had to do what was best for my mental health, right? Sleep was too important.

I rolled my eyes at myself and groaned, yet I clicked into the stupid app anyway.

My heart raced as I poked around. It wasn’t easy to navigate, but eventually I found an option called Session History . Clicking in, my eyes grew wide.

“Holy crap.”

There were pages and pages of sessions. Seeing them all in black and white made me a little nauseous. But one entry in particular stopped me in my tracks. Because it had been recorded two nights ago—while I was sleeping in bed right next to Brock.

“ Unreal. Un-freaking-real .” I whipped the covers off and got out of bed.

Not only did I not want to see anything else in this phone, I wanted the thing out of my possession immediately.

So I dressed as fast as I could, tucked the phone into my back pocket, and locked the door to my room.

I was just about to climb out the window—without even knowing if the damn ladder was outside—when something dawned on me.

A man who has virtual sex with one woman while another is lying in his bed doesn’t have respect for anyone. So why was I being so respectful and not looking through the rest of his phone? The answer: I wasn’t anymore.

Without further debate, I went right to his photos. The first picture I called up was of a weird tattoo—I wasn’t certain, but I thought it might be a squirrel running down a thigh. A very thick thigh … Was that Brock? I swiped again. And the next photo made my jaw drop…

** *

“Hi. Is Brock working tonight?”

The bartender shook his head. “Sorry, it’s his night off.”

“Oh.”

“Can I get you something to drink anyway?”

If I wasn’t going to be able to give Brock a piece of my mind, I definitely could use a drink. “I’ll have a dry martini, shaken not—” Remembering what Brock had said about my prissy drink, I stopped and shook my head. “You know what? I’ll just have a vodka and cranberry, please.”

He knocked on the bar twice. “Coming right up.”

A young man slid onto the stool next to me. He flashed a dimpled, crooked smile.

“Hey there. I think you owe me a drink?”

I smiled, even through my anger. “And why would I owe you a drink?”

His smile widened. “Because I dropped mine when you walked in. You’re so damn beautiful.”

I chuckled. “Cheesy. But cute. Though I think I’d need to see some ID to buy you any alcohol. Are you even old enough to be in here?”

The kid shrugged. “Nah. But the owner doesn’t care.” He extended a hand. “I’m Axe.”

“Is that your real name?”

His lip quirked. “No, but it’ll sound a heck of a lot better than Arthur when you’re moaning it.”

This kid was really adorable. Ridiculously over the top, yet somehow it worked for him. Charisma, shaggy hair, and a dimpled smile were a dangerous combination. I bet he was popular with girls his own age. There was also something familiar about him. “How old are you, Axe ?”

“Eighteen. Well, close enough. I’ll be eighteen next year.”

The bartender returned with my drink. He wagged his finger at the kid next to me. “Leave the ladies alone, Arthur.”

He pointed. “ She hit on me .”

“Yeah, right.” The bartender moved two fingers back and forth, simulating walking. “Go back to the booth and finish your homework, or I’m kicking your ass out.”

Axe, or Arthur , groaned. “You suck.” But he also slinked off to a booth.

I drank my drink quietly after that, debating whether I should leave Brock’s phone with the bartender or come back another night so I could give it to him myself, along with some choice words.

As I finished off the last of my cocktail, Axe returned.

He’d just started to say something when a booming voice interrupted.

“What did I tell you about sitting at the bar?” Brock’s face was stern.

“I was just getting the nice lady’s phone number,” Axe said.

Brock looked to me. “You giving this kid your number?”

His tone pissed me off. He pissed me off. So I folded my arms across my chest. “What business is it of yours if I am?”

Brock scowled and pointed at the kid next to me. “I’ve told you ten times, you don’t sit at this bar for four more years. Now you’ve lost the right to even come in here. From now on, you go somewhere else to do your homework. ”

“How can I go somewhere else when you took my car keys?”

“You have two damn legs. Walk .”

“Can I at least have my phone back?”

“Will you leave if I give you your phone?”

“Absolutely.”

Brock took a deep breath and blew it out. The kid was trying his patience. He turned to me. “Any chance you found a phone? I took this little shit’s cell because he got suspended again . But I can’t find it anywhere. I think I might’ve left it in the flannel I gave you last night.”

I felt all the color from my face drain. “It…it wasn’t your phone?”

“No. It’s my dipshit little brother’s.”

I swallowed. “Your brother?”

He nodded.

“I, uh…” I took the phone from my back pocket and held it out hesitantly. “Is this it?”

The kid swiped it from my hand. “Thanks! Gotta go.”

My head was still reeling as I watched him jog from the bar. I hadn’t been looking at pictures of Brock’s dick? I’d been looking at his seventeen-year-old brother? His little brother used the BuzzBuddy app ?

Oh God.

“You okay, Red?”

I covered my face with my hands. “Not really.”

“What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “I’m mortified to even tell you.”

“Shit.” He chuckled. “This sounds good.”

I still had my face covered, so I spread two of my fingers and peeked out. “If I tell you, you have to promise you will not torture me about it. ”

“Not sure I can do that until I hear what it is.”

I sighed. “I peeked in your phone—at least I thought it was your phone until two minutes ago.”

“Okay…”

“I hate to tell you this, but your little brother has some interesting apps on there.”

“Oh, I know.” He shook his head. “Freaking BuzzBuddy. The little peckerhead got suspended because of the damn thing. He was using it on some girl while they were in school, and one of the teachers heard the humming. That’s why I took his phone and his car away.

Our mother, God rest her soul, would’ve chopped off his balls for having shit like that. ”

My heart squeezed. I hadn’t known he’d lost his mother. “I’m sorry. Your brother is so young to not have a mom.”

Brock nodded. “Art is the youngest. My mom had six boys.”

“Who does he live with?”

“My aunt. That’s what my mom wanted. But my brothers and I all keep an eye on him and help out.” Brock gestured to the booths on the other side of the bar. “You up for another drink? Maybe we can go sit over there for a while?”

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” He winked. “Because you owe me one after I didn’t bust your balls about going through the phone when you thought it was mine.”

Brock and I spent the next two hours talking. He told me more about growing up with five brothers, and I finally came clean about the real reason my board had sent me for a mental-health break .

“Let me get this straight… You had no clue the mic was on, and everyone in the audience at some hurdy-turdy fashion show heard you having sex?”

I sipped my drink. “Pretty much. With my competitor. And we sort of cursed at each other through the whole thing. I loathe the man. Though sadly, it wasn’t our first time.”

Brock went quiet.

“What are you thinking right now?” I asked. “I’m not generally promiscuous like that, if that’s what’s running through your mind.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

“Then what is it?”

He met my eyes. “That I’d like to punch the fucker who got to have sex with you.”

A little flutter moved through my belly.

I smiled. “The feeling is mutual. I was jealous of whoever you were sexting with. By the way, you should tell your little brother to delete some of the racy pics he has on his phone. He’s underage, and if he sends them to people, it could be considered dissemination of child pornography.

” As soon as I said the words, my eyes flared.

“ Oh my God, Brock . You have to get your brother’s phone back! ”

Brock’s brows pulled tight. “Why?”

“Because I was pissed at you and left you a parting gift on it. I took a pic of me giving you the finger.”

He shrugged. “That’s not a big deal. My brother’s seen and done a lot worse.”

“No, Brock! You have to get it back. I didn’t just give you the finger. I wanted you to see what you were missing, so I held it up between my bare breasts !”