Sweatis dripping down my face.Ido my best to mop it up with the back of my hand asIjog thest few meters to my driveway.Butafter a few more strides, the sweat mixed with my sunblock moves down my forehead and seeps into my eyes.Istop in my tracks in front ofDex’sdriveway asItry to blink away the burn.IfIwere wearing a shirt,I’dtry to soak up my stinging tears, but it’sLasVegasinMay.It’salready scorching, soI’mrunning shirtless.


    <i ss="calibre2">Hooonk!</i>


    Thesound of a ring horn causes me to jump in ce.


    Whippingmy head to the right,Inotice the grayJeepCherokeeon the street with a blinker on, trying to turn into the drivewayI’mstanding in front of.Thewoman in the driver’s seat is a brte with her hair pulled up into a sloppy ponytail.Thewoman in the passenger seat is a tinum blonde whose sunsses are so big they take up the majority of her face.Mostnotably, though, neither of these women isDex’sgirlfriend,Leah.


    <i ss="calibre2">Strange.</i>NowayDexandLeahbroke up.Thesemust be family members…or contractors…or maybe people who work at his dive shop?


    Iobediently take a step backward on the sidewalk and gesture for them to pass in front of me.Ihold my hands up in an apology.Thebrte rolls the window down and pokes her head out of the car. “Iam so sorry,” she calls out. “Pleaseexcuse the honking.Itwas”—she throws a re toward the passenger side of the car—“<i ss="calibre2">very rude</i>.”


    Ichuckle, understanding that she wasn’t the one to honk the horn.Ican’t see her eyes clearly, but the blonde’s face is fixed in my direction andIget the feeling that she’s thoroughly checking me out.I’mnot sure why this is immediately off-putting.Idon’t mind when women notice me.


    Butnot like this.


    NotlikeI’mproperty and she’s considering putting in a bid.


    “Itwould’ve been far more rude to hit me,”Icall back. “Sothe heads-up is appreciated.”Ish her a wide smile.


    “Pedestriansfirst.”Thebrte gestures me past with her hand. “Please.”Sheslides back into the car, butIcan see her full cheeks bunch as she smiles through the windshield.Iwish she’d take off her dark sunsses.Thelittle jolt in my chest tells me she’s pretty.Andnot in the obvious, thirsty-for-attention way her friend ising off, but in the subtle mystery way that is kicking up all kinds of curiosity in my male brain.


    Somewhatreluctantly,Ihold up my palm and jog pastDex’sdriveway.ugh at the loud whistle behind me, knowing one of them, probably the blonde, ismenting on the view of my ass.


    I’mbarely through my front door whenIsee the disaster that is my normally tidy sitting room.It’sthe very first thing you see when you walk into my rancher.Itry to keep it pristine—first impressions and all.Atthe present moment, you can barely see the floors amidst the bags upon bags fromHobbyLobbyandMichaels.Istep out of my running shoes and call out, knowing exactly who the culprit of this mess is.


    “Lennox!”


    Sheappears immediately from the hallway, a steaming mug in her hand, looking dogeared and a little crazed.She’pletely changed her look in thest forty-eight hours sinceI’veseen her.Herhair is dyed ck with violet streaks in multiple shades.Herbangs are cut in a straight line.Ihave a feeling the shopping bag graveyard that is now my living room is the aftermath of this new edgy look.


    “Whatthe fresh hell is all this?”


    Shetouches the corner of her eye and then points to me. “Iam a visionary.”


    <i ss="calibre2">Oh,Christ.</i>“Whyare you a visionary?”


    “Weare more than sexy cowgirls,Finn.Wecan do better than that.”


    Iblink, trying to absorb her odd remark.Iconsider asking her what the hell she’s talking about but decide to side-step it instead. “Yourhair is cool.”Ipat her shoulder asIwalk past her to the kitchen to grab a cold bottle of water.Softfootsteps trail behind me. “How’dyou get here?”IaskLennoxasItwist off the cap.Stillstruggling to cool down,I’mtempted to dump this cold bottle of water all over my face and chest. “Ididn’t see your car.”


    “Ipulled into your garage.”


    Iraise an eyebrow at her. “You’rereally at home here, aren’t you?”


    LennoxandIdon’t technically live together, but we might as well.Myphotography studio is in my basement.Itonly works because it’s a walk-out basement, meaning there’s plenty of natural lightIneed for headshots and family portraits.Ithink my lower level was originally built as a mother-inw suite.Ithas a private ess door through the back gate.Youcan ess the studio without needing to ess my home.Lennoxknows this but also knows no boundaries.Myentire house has be her domain.


    Sheshows me her teeth through a snarky grin and holds up her mug. “Youwant coffee?”


    Pressingmy palm t against my chest,Icheck my still-racing heart. “Notat the moment.Therun was grueling.I’mone sip of caffeine away from cardiac arrest.”


    Lennox’seyes drop to my knees and she scrunches her face in confusion. “What’swrong with your knees?”Shepoints to the kinesiology tape wrapped around both of my knees, tracing my quads and outlining my kneecaps.


    “It’sfor extra support.I’velogged thirty miles this week on concrete sidewalks.I’mtrying to avoid my tendonitis ring up.”


    Shetwists her lips in that familiar way that tells me she’s about to say something sassy.


    “What?”Ibegrudgingly ask.


    “Wouldn’tit be easier to just start having sex again than trying to physically outrun your testosterone?”Shecackles.


    “Ha.”She’snot wrong.


    “Howlong has it been?”


    Iroll my eyes at her. “Acouple months.”Threemonths, twelve days.Or, in other words, about one hundred body-punishing runs.ConTEent bel0ngs to N?v(e)lD/rama(.)Org .


    “Howlong is this going to go on?”


    “Idon’t know.UntilIfeel like it.”<i ss="calibre2">UntilIstop seeing the worst in women.</i>I’mnot exactly open about it, butNoradid a number on me.Afterwhat we went through, now allIsee are red gs in women.Iremember one night afterNoraandIended things,Ibrought home a new girlIactually liked.Shewas a bit of a wallflower—polite and soft-spoken.MaybeIliked that she was my ex’s pr opposite.Ihad high hopes.Butthe morning after, when she thoughtIwas sleeping,Icaught her checking my phone.Ididn’t say anything.Ijust pretended to sleep and let her scroll through my messages, my apps, and my pictures.Ihad absolutely nothing to hide, butIwas not about to put myself through that shit again.<i ss="calibre2">Dealbreaker.</i>Inever called her again.


    Iwant a woman confident enough to ask me questions and believe my answers.Ifshe’s wondering ifI’msleeping with multiple women at the same time—just ask.Theanswer is no.Ifshe’s interested in something serious—just tell me.Maybeshe’d be surprised to know thatIam too.I’mtwenty-eight.Bynow,I’msick of the mind games, paranoia, and jealous fights over nothing.Iwant a woman who is honest, earnest, and trusts me enough to just be real…


    AndIam thoroughly convinced this woman doesn’t exist inLasVegas.It’skind of whyIgave up.OnceIwas single again,Istarted being exactly the manwhore bachelor all these women assumedIwas, until even that got old.


    “So, why are you a visionary?”Ithrow my thumb over my shoulder, reminding her of the mess she made in my living room.


    “Noir,” she says with a bright-eyed eager expression.


    “Yeah…I’mgoing to need a little more of an exnation than that.”


    “<i ss="calibre2">Film</i>noir.Witha touch of bondage.”


    Itake a few glugs of my water. “What?”


    Shesquints one eye. “Youknow, like handcuffs…<i ss="calibre2">toys</i>…lots of leather…”


    Anufortable realization sinks in. “Ismy living room full of women’s sex toys right now?”


    “<i ss="calibre2">Nooooo</i>.”Lennoughs awkwardly then widens her eyes and nods empathically. “AndIfound some of these cool ck roses at the craft store.I’mthinking all ck and white.ckflowers, white sheets, a torn white wedding dress that’s ink-stained draped over a chair.Weddinglingerie in the same style.”


    “Arewe staging a boudoir set or a murder scene?”


    Shughs. “Boldsexuality is in.Ireally think this could be a big moneymaker.Infact, we’ve gotten requests through the website for something more<i ss="calibre2">dramatic</i>.<i ss="calibre2"></i>Wehave to adapt to the market,Finn.”Lennoxgrimaces. “Businessis not…great.”


    She’sright again.Photographyis an ebb-and-flow business.Everyonewith the newest iPhone these days can take professional-looking photographs, so you have to bring more value to the table than pictures.Itry to help women love their bodies and appreciate their unique beauty.Nomatter what size, color, or shape—every single woman is beautiful.Theyhave to look at themselves through the right lens.Somehowthrough my noble plight,Ialso have to find a way to pay the bills.Lately, it’s been getting more difficult to find clients.


    “You’rea woman…exin this to me.”


    Lennoxfollows asImake my way into my front living room and pull a pair of fuzzy ck handcuffs from a stic shopping bag.


    “Whyis bondage sexy?Iwant to help build confidence, not tie up women and put them on disy like roast chickens.”


    Lennoxsquints one eye at me. “Ithink we can be more tasteful than roast chickens.”Furrowingmy brows,Ireturn a skeptical look, so she continues, “I’mnot suggesting we go dark dungeon or anything like that, but we can just tease the idea.We’llhave edgier costumes but have them wear their hair in soft waves.We’lldo the entire shoot in a moody ck and white, but they can smile in some pictures.It’llbe very floral but dark colors.Handcuffs—”


    “Butfuzzy,”Ifinish for her.


    “Exactly.”Lennoxpops her shoulders like she’s pleased with herself.Shereally has an eye for stage design.Oneday, she is going to move toHollywoodand be an acimed set director.I’msure of it.Fornow,I’mgrateful to have her help.Itake great pictures, my editing is unrivaled, but without the set,I’ma fish in a barrel.IneedLennox.


    “Youreally think it’ll bring in more business?”


    Shewidens her eyes and nods slowly. “Atthis point, we have to try anything.It’seither edgy or topless clowns.”


    “<i ss="calibre2">What</i>?”


    “Don’task.”Sheshoots me a wink, but her smile is less than innocent.Idon’t want to know what websitesLennoxvisits.Mycousin is not shy about her quirky taste…let’s leave it at that.


    “Sothe idea is bold but feminine,”Imuse.


    “Right.”Shenods as she points to my forehead. “That’swhat we should call it.Boldlyfeminine.Giveme a week or so to build the set, then why don’t we do a test run?Wecan offer a free photo shoot to someone and put new pictures up on the website.Let’sjust see who bites.Ifit’s a bust, we’ll go back to the drawing board.”Shelooks around the room. “We’vegot to try something,Finn…our calendar is pretty much empty.Idon’t think it’s the service.It’sa good time to be in boudoir.It’sjust no one knows we exist and it’s a tough business for word-of-mouth marketing.”


    Inod in agreement. “AndIbasically have no budget for paid marketing.”


    “Right—so anything that can capture people’s attention…”


    “Okay,I’msold.Noharm in trying it out.”Ismile at her. “Goodwork,Lennox.”


    Shecrosses her legs and bows. “Lovely.Nowgo take a shower.Youstink.”


    “Rogerthat.”Ifinish off my water, then turn toward my bedroom.


    “Hey, by the way, do you want to go out tonight?There’sa foam party atUltimate.Inviteonly.Ihung out with the bouncerst week and he gave me an extra ticket.There’sgoing to be a surprise celebrityDJ—rumor is it’sKhalid.”


    “Afoam party on theVegasStrip?Thatsounds like a lot of drunk, wet women running around.”


    Lennoxtaps her nose twice. “Exactly.Havesome fun.Allyou’ve been doing for months is working and”—she points to my knees—“running.It’sbeen a year.Whenare you going to be done being sad?”


    “I’mnot sad.”Idon’t think the lookI’mgiving her is convincing becauseLennoxpuckers her bottom lip.


    “Idon’t believe you.I’m<i ss="calibre2">proud</i>of you.ButIdon’t believe you.Look,Finn…Norawas—”


    Ihold up my hand to interrupt her. “I’mokay.Butthank you, little cousin.”Iclose the space between us and drape my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a sweaty hug.


    “Gross,” sheins.


    “You’resweet to worry about me.Butdon’t.Havefun at your foam party.”Irelease her.


    “Whatare you going to do tonight?”


    Oncue, my muscles start to ache and tense.Ipushed it a little too much today.Icould use some relief. “I’llprobably just bringDexa six-pack of beer and sneak into his hot tub.”


    Dexnever uses his in-ground hot tub.Leah, his girlfriend, does very rarely.Ifit were portable,I’djust buy it from him and move it to my patio.Instead, we put in a gate between our yards soIam free to ess his tub wheneverIlike.Inexchange,Ibring him beer and pay for the monthly maintenance.Icould not have asked for a better neighbor.Notto mention he’s richer thanGod, so the neighborhood barbeques he hosts are top-tier.Whobuys ribeye steaks for an entire block of people?


    “Wantme to stay in?Keepyoupany?”


    “Uh, no.Theonly thing sadder than staying in on aSaturdaynight to hot tub alone is staying in on aSaturdaynight to hot tub with your cousin.”


    Lennoxsnorts inughter and bobs her head in agreement.


    “Justcall me if you need a ride home and please be smart.Idon’t want to have to rescue you and kick someone’s ass.”


    Shesalutes me. “Allright.Oh, and hey, askDexwhich wet suit he’s packing forCozumel.Ithink he said a shortie, butIrun cold, soIthinkI’mgoing to bring my long-sleeved one.”


    IforgotLennoxis taking a week off next month to go on a dive trip he’s leading.She,Dex, andLeahinstantly bonded over their love of scuba.


    “Can’tyou text him?”


    “He’sso damn ky and disorganized with his phone.Greatdive instructor, butIdon’t know how his business isn’t in mes.”


    “Allright,I’lltry to remember,”Isay asIhead down the hallway.Itap my temple firmly likeIcan push a reminder right through the side of my head.That’stwo thingsIneed to askDexnow.Lennox’swet suit…


    Andwho the hell is the pretty brte who stopped by his ce.