Page 30 of Filtration Play
“What are your plans?” Meg asked, still with the eyebrow arches and barely restrained smirks.
“My business,” they grumbled. A text buzzed in their pocket, and they glanced at the screen. Mom.
Can we meet up soon?
Their stomach roiled. They preferred the visits spaced out to twice a year max. Mom never tried for more either. Getting together was hard enough to manage without Dad knowing. Sneaking around the bastard made every meetup a risk. Unless something had changed? Hope bubbled inside them, but they squashed it down quickly. No fucking way.
“Bad news?” Meg asked.
Right, they’d checked their shit right in front of the All-Dommy.
Fin grunted. “My mom wants to meet again. It’d break our twice-a-year rhythm, which I’m not keen on.”
“You can always say no,” Meg said. She, Pixie, and Parker were some of the few who knew a smidge about Fin’s past. More for practicality because if their dad ever showed up at Whipped, they wouldn’t hesitate to kick him out. Fin hadn’t gone into the details, though. They never went into the details.
“I might,” Fin said. “Depends on what the meetup is about.”
Meg nodded. “Sometimes dead weight needs to get cut.”
“Amen, sister.” The temptation was strong. The only thing that kept them from cutting out Mom was the worry that someday she’d end up dead at Dad’s hand. That they’d see a news article, find out secondhand. However, she refused to leave Dad, so they were prettysure the police report would come their way in the future. Their stomach churned, the good vibes from earlier gone. Memories of their youth tended to do that to them, hence why they’d been surfing the crests for so long, never diving deep below.
That way lay madness.
“What are you all doing slogging about here?” Nolan joined them at the counter. “I got lonely back in the office.”
“They’re bothering me because they don’t have anything better to do,” Fin said. “Want a coffee? Might as well do my job here.”
“Yes, black.” Nolan sauntered up to the riffraff. Warmth welled up inside them. In the rare moments that jealousy bubbled up over everyone’s family situations, this was the reminder they clung to. They had their own here, and even everyone getting coupled up hadn’t changed the dynamic.
It almost made them want something of their own. Almost.
Fin passed Noles a black coffee and began working on Sloan’s chai and Meg’s cortado. The rhythm of making coffee hummed in their bones, a repetitive ritual they adored.
“Did you hear about the new club opening up?” Nolan asked.
“Apparently, you’re all gossip central today,” Fin said.
“Ugh, that’s a steer-clear one,” Meg said. “Trent’s involved in helping run the first event.”
“The Trent who got kicked out of our scene?” Sloan asked. “That guy was so gross.”
“Who’s the main person running it?” Fin asked.
“Carter,” Meg said. “I looked into him, but he doesn’t have much of a history, at least where I can find it. He says he’s been in the kink scene for over a decade, but any trail seems to be scrubbed.”
“Wow, that’s inspiring the good feels,” Nolan said. “Fuck that place.”
The front door creaked again, and Fin glanced up, expecting Micah, who’d be replacing them at any moment.
Instead, Ollie strode through the door.
Their heart sped up without permission. The sunlight gleamed on his dark brown hair, bringing out the lighter notes, and he wore his mechanic jumpsuit, which damn. He looked fucking fine in, especially the way his bulk stretched the fabric. His shoulders were broad, his scruff fucking delicious, and his dark eyes sweeter than expected on a big guy like him.
Fin licked their lips. Goddamn. They couldn’t wait to desecrate him.
Ollie caught their gaze, and a bright, beautiful grin stole his face. If they lit up the second he walked into the room, that was their damn business.
“Ah, there’s the dreamy look again,” Meg teased.
