I perched at the table in the Callingwood Daily office with Noelle and Zara, trying to finish my part of a group project for Ethical Issues in Journalism and Communications. It was always somewhat difficult to focus when I would be seeing Chase later, but today was especially challenging because he was picking me up later to go sex toy shopping.

What had I gotten myself into?

I hadn't even told Noelle or Zara, though I knew they'd cheer me on if I did.

"Bailey," Professor Johnson said, lingering in the doorway. "Can we chat quickly in my office for a moment?"

I glanced up from my laptop. "Sure." Quickly shutting it, I slid it into my bag and followed her out of the room, down the hall into her office.

Professor Johnson was the epitome of laid-back, down to her untameable frizzy grey hair and colorful floor-length skirts. A hippie in her youth, she'd racked up countless journalism awards for her coverage of international affairs. As our faculty advisor for the paper now, she tended to give us a long leash. But she did check in with us every now and then, whenever we needed guidance or something went truly off the rails.

She lowered herself into her desk chair, gesturing for me to have a seat. "I just wanted to touch base about how you're feeling about taking over for Liam. I know it was kind of sudden."

"I'm excited," I said, sinking into the red cloth chair across from her desk. "I've always wanted to handle the sports coverage."

Professor Johnson raised her salt-and-pepper eyebrows. "Are you sure you'll be able to manage it on top of your other responsibilities? I know you have a heavy course load and I don't want to overwhelm you."

"No, it won't be a problem."

I just might have to make a few sacrifices. Like sleep. Or possibly, my sanity. You know, those minor negotiable things.

"Good." She nodded, reaching for a piece of paper and sliding it across the desk to me. It was a list of Liam's assignments until Christmas. "I wasn't sure what he passed along to you in terms of his current and future assignments. As you can see, he was just starting to write a feature about how the Assistant Captain for the Bulldogs is stepping up to guide the team while their captain is injured."

I glanced down at the list again, confirming what she'd just said. Much to my dismay, there it was, second bullet from the top: Bulldogs feature with Assistant Captain.

The Bulldogs' Assistant Captain was Paul.

Would it be unprofessional of me to dry heave?

"So, Liam did an interview with him already?" I asked. "Does he have a recording or transcript I can review?"

"No," she said, folding her hands over top of the desk. "He hadn't completed it yet."

So by "starting" the feature, she meant Liam had sat around thinking about it. Probably not even.

Dread took root in my stomach, slowly blossoming. A one-on-one interview with Paul wasn't exactly on my bucket list, even if it would add to my writing portfolio.

"I know you're familiar with the team," Professor Johnson added, "so I knew it would be no problem for you to pick up where Liam left off and conduct the interview so you can write the article."

I nodded, but I wanted to scream. "Right. None at all."

"I can email you the guidelines for a feature article as well, since this is your first time writing one."

"Thanks," I said, "that would be great."

By the time I left her office, it was time to go meet Chase at the traffic roundabout. I made my way out of the Center for Communications and texted Amelia for Paul's number while I walked across campus. After receiving an exceptionally frosty response—almost like she thought I wanted it to hit on him or something, and um, not a freaking chance—she eventually passed it along.

Then I connected with him via text and arranged a time to meet at a coffee shop on campus Monday. Better to get it over with rather than having it looming over my head.

*

Twenty minutes later, Chase pulled into the parking lot in front of Lush Boutique, killing the ignition of his truck. The neon pink sign glowed accusatorially at us. Going in there would be like announcing to the world that I was having sex. Not just sex, freaky sex. Or that I was masturbating, which wasn't something I was keen to advertise, either.

"Ready?" He turned to face me, dark brown eyes glinting playfully.

Nerves seized hold of me, fight-or-flight response kicking in. The trepidation I felt was like the first time I'd filled my birth control prescription, amplified times a million.

"Nope." I shook my head, crossing my legs. "I know I agreed to this earlier, but I changed my mind. I can't go in there."

Could I?

Chase shrugged, face neutral. "Okay. I'm not going to make you. We can leave if you want."

In theory, I wanted to leave. In reality, I didn't really want to leave...And he knew it. He was eerily good at reading me already. But since he literally said whatever he was thinking, all the time, I guess that evened out.

I bit my bottom lip. "I don't know."

"I'll be right with you." He reached over, patting my thigh. "In and out. Easy."

"But we have to pay before we can go home." I looked at him, cringing. "Like, I have to stand there and face another person while purchasing...that."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "You think a sex shop cashier is going to judge you for buying a little vibrator? Trust me, James. Those people have seen some shit."

I glanced through the window over at the store, back to him, then at the store again.

Part of me was curious. Most of me was intimidated.

It was just a store. A simple brick and glass structure, innocuous enough from the outside. But as for what it contained...

Chase squinted, leaning over the steering wheel. "Look." He nodded at the window. "Carl's working the register today. He's super nice."

"You know the cashiers by name?!"

"It was a joke," he said, laughing. "How much of a perv do you think I am?"

I reached over and poked his arm. "I plead the fifth."

"If you join me, you have some input." He winked. "But I can go in without you if you want. We could make it a surprise like I said before."

"That sounds even scarier." I drew in a breath, holding it for a beat before exhaling. To go, or not to go? The million-dollar question.

Chase held my gaze. "James." He lowered his voice, intentionally doing that thing that somehow massaged my brain—not to mention other parts of my body—and made it impossible to say no to.

"Yeah?"

"Come on."

"Fine," I grumbled, but I was a little thankful for the prodding.

What's the worst that could happen? I mean, other than dying of embarrassment.

I'd done my homework for this outing and intentionally chosen a nicer, chick-friendly store per the reviews and pictures online. The inside of this one looked more like a clothing boutique than a sex shop, finished with wood shelving and decked out in black and pink decor.

It was the opposite of the usual seedy, fluorescent-lit type of store you'd picture when you thought "sex shop," which made it perfect. Hopefully.

We entered and made a beeline past the role play costumes, sex swings, and a BDSM section taking up an entire corner. Fortunately, no one else was in the store, so that was one less thing to potentially freak out James.

On the far wall stood an array of vibrators, butt plugs, and other battery-operated toys. I guided her over, maneuvering myself so that I was blocking the adjacent shelf of massive suction-cup dildos from her line of sight. We were shooting for baby steps here, and I didn't want her to get freaked out. Hell, some of them even freaked me out a little. They were gigantic. I didn't even want to think about the amount of lube those would require. Probably gallons.

I scanned the display for a minute, trying to find something that seemed beginner-friendly. They had a decent selection, at least. Rabbit vibrators, bullet vibrators, g-spot stimulators, massage wands, the works. I quickly ruled out anything too anatomically correct as I was pretty sure she had no desire for a veiny purple battery-operated cock. Ditto the cheaper low-end toys, because this definitely wasn't a purchase to cut corners on.

"I don't even know what most of these things are," Bailey said under her breath, fidgeting with the sleeve of her grey wool coat. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

I squeezed her hand. "I think it's pretty awesome that you are. Gonna be worth it." And I meant it on both counts. I had the coolest girlfriend ever. Hottest, too.

"If you say so." She ran a hand through her loose blonde waves, stealing another nervous glance at me. Then she turned her attention back at the display, with a hint of curiosity on her face that wasn't lost on me.

See? I knew she had a naughty side. It was just buried really, really deep.

And uncovering it was going to be half the fun.

My gaze fell to an app-operated turquoise vibrator, interest piquing. Remote control. The display said it worked remotely from different locations if you both had the app. Holy shit. If I could get James off from afar while I was out of town for hockey, that would be the fucking hottest thing ever. Definitely not happening today, but definitely going on my shopping list for later.

"What about this?" I grabbed a hot pink silicone bullet vibe off the shelf, examining it. It looked and felt high-end, with a contoured shape, and it wasn't much larger than my thumb. It was about as cute and non-threatening as a sex toy could get.

Bailey eyed it warily, like it might bite. "I don't know."

Turning it over, I switched the button on the base onto low. It started to hum quietly, vibrating in a pulsing pattern. I pushed another button and it started to move in a slower, wave-like rhythm. Versatile. Nice.

"Look, it has different settings." I held out to her, changing the pattern again to a steady vibration. "See? It's not scary."

She furrowed her brow and reached out, poking it with her finger. "Huh," she said. "It's softer than I thought it would be."

"Potential?"

"You tell me." Bailey shrugged. "I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"We can keep looking if you want." I switched it off and set it back on the shelf, scanning the other toys. "This one looks like a tube of lipstick. This one fits on your finger. This one has suction..." Then there were the bigger, g-spot stimulating toys but I figured we would steer clear of those for now, too.

"This first one looks fine." She turned, surveying the store for onlookers—like she might randomly stumble upon a college classmate in a random sex toy boutique downtown. "Should we go pay?"

"Yeah. Just let me look at the box for a second." Four speeds, four different rhythms, anatomically designed, made out of medical grade silicone with a USB charger. So theoretically, I could charge it in my truck. Handy. And a two-hour battery life, which I couldn't see using in one go, but good to know.

Bailey laughed. "You're acting like you're buying a car." Then her eyes fell to the price tag, widening. "Oh my god. You practically are. It's $120."

"Good toys aren't cheap," I said. "Plus, think of where it's going." We'd already established that I was paying and it wasn't up for discussion, so there wasn't much more she could say to that.

I held up the box. "You in agreement?"

"Sure."

I snagged a bottle of toy cleaner to go with it and we made our way over to the cash register by the doors. Contrary to my joke about Carl, the sales associate working the register was a chick. She was probably close to our age, heavily tattooed with a septum piercing, with a name tag that read Harriet. Weird. She did not look like a Harriet.

She glanced up from the worn paperback book she was reading, bookmarking her spot and setting it aside. "Find everything you were looking for?"

"Sure did," I said, passing her the items. Bailey gave her a polite smile even though I could tell she was uneasy. I squeezed her hand again and she squeezed it back. Honestly, still surprised I got her to come but stoked she did.

And eager to get her back to my place later.

Obviously.

Harriet scanned the vibrator box and bottle of toy cleaner, then I handed her my credit card. There was a display of massage candles beside the register that looked intriguing, but we could circle back to that one later too. My list just kept getting longer and longer.

"Since you spent over $30 today, you get a complimentary sample of flavored lube," she said, printing out my receipt and placing it in the small black-and-pink bag.

"Cool," I said.

The cashier pointed to the display. "Which flavor do you want?"

"You pick." I gently nudged Bailey.

"Huh?" She snapped out of her daze, glancing over at the bottles on display: mango, pink lemonade, strawberry, watermelon. "Um...strawberry?" She squeaked, cheeks turning pink. Adorable.

The salesclerk tossed a tiny sample bottle in the bag, sliding the bag across the counter. Bailey grabbed it, which I took as a massive win.

"Next time I'll pack you sunglasses and a hat." I said, leaning over and kissing the top of her head as we headed for the door. "You can go incognito."

"Oh my god, no." She glanced up at me. "Next time we're ordering online."

"So you're open to expanding your toy collection down the road."

Bailey laughed. "Never change, Carter."

"You wanna swing by the handcuffs on the way out, or?"

"I'm good," she said. "Maybe next time."

Wait, what?

I turned to look at her. "Really?"

"I said maybe."

Pushing the door open, I held it for her and we headed back outside into the chilly fall air. The weather had suddenly taken a turn and it felt like winter was imminent.

"Food time?" My truck beeped from afar as I hit the remote start, engine roaring to life.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm starving."

I walked her over to the passenger side door, backing her up against it. My hands found her waist and I leaned in, kissing her briefly. Had to keep it brief because I was already too worked up for my own good. Plus, she smelled delicious, like vanilla and Bailey. Good enough to eat. Literally.

Suddenly, I wanted to skip that meal.

We pulled apart and I studied her face. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I'm not sure." She shrugged, lips quirking. "What about you?"

I was in the mood to open that box and test drive the toy, but I wasn't going to push my luck on that front. She could take it home and we could see how that went. Fingers crossed.

"You," I said. "Sitting on my face."

Her eyes widened and she looked over my shoulder, then back at me. "Carter." She gave me a look. "We're in public."

"Technically, we're in a parking lot. And I didn't mean here. Just, you know, later."

I opened the door for her, shutting it behind her before walking around to the driver's side.

"What's the over/under on the timeline for you opening that box?" I put the truck into reverse, backing out of the stall.

"I don't know," Bailey said evasively. "Depends on lots of things."

I stole a glance at her. "I give it four days, max."

My real bet was two, but I was being conservative.

"Aren't you optimistic?"

"Always," I said. "Gonna tell me when you do?"

Her expression shifted, a mixture of self-conscious and mischievous. "You want me to?"

"Hell, yeah."

I mean, ideally, I wanted a play-by-play, pictures, video. A highly detailed review. But I'd settle for knowing. My imagination could do the rest.

She grinned. "We'll see."

Well, this was a fun chapter to research. I wonder what Chase has up his sleeve next?

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