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Anyway, here I am. And I’m alone, so now I can say what I really wanted to say an hour ago: Colin saw what?”Shannon tittered. “Relax. He saw the pictures that we took at Clara’s.”“Wow, you sure hid them well,” I deadpanned. “Was he going through your stuff or something?”“Um ... They were kind of on my desk.”I snorted. “What?”“I was cleaning up, so I had a bunch of stuff out. I need to start packing, you know! I won’t have much time after we get back from camping.”I laughed. “Yeah, I know. And fine, I guess when I’m in a rush, I leave all my nude pictures out and about too.”“Matty, stop!”“Are you bringing them to Buffalo with you?”“Probably not ... I’m actually not sure what to do with them.”“Maybe best to get rid of them,” I suggested. “Just in case.”“Maybe. Do you want to hang on to them?”“Not really. As cool as they are...”“Yeah, that was a dumb question ... Shoot, I’m sorry, Matt, I just realized. I’m still trying to get used to the idea of her being gone.”“Same here, Shan. But. Of course she wore the choker; they had discussed that in advance. The black ribbon with the tiny bell tied at the center. He loved the semi-secret sexual charge, the semi-public acknowledgment of erotic roleplay.And the pearls. Always the pearls. Tonight she wore them so that they fell along the fold of her top, plunging into the depths of her neckline and disappearing, inviting any passing the eye to follow the strand down.At at the bar, she sipped at her martini (her signature drink for these games, with three olives speared on a drunkenly leaning cocktail sword). She sat at the ready to swat down the approaches of any men attempting to buy her a drink.The game had changed in one significant way: he wasn't to approach her this time. She would come to him.He sat at a table, in the shadows of a far corner, sipping a bourbon on ice, feigning boredom. He wore faded jeans, red sneakers, a white button-down shirt, a generic sportscoat. His face bristled with a day’s worth of stubble..
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