While Dio explained that he’d be happy to pick up Kasi’s lack in the licking department, Bast rolled her eyes. How did the Sumerian not get it? She had her own boyfriend, she should be worried about the same thing. Actually, she should probably be more worried, given who her boyfriend was and just how large and imposing a figure Kratos cut.
“What was that last hashtag again?” she asked sweetly. Too sweetly. Anybody that knew her understood what that tone meant. “You know, the one you just put on the internet, for anybody to see, including a social media savvy Norse god?”
It wasn’t so much that Bast thought Hermod would think that she… well, no, it was pretty much that she worried that Hermod might jump to the wrong conclusion. He knew her. He knew her proclivities. And he knew her history with Ninkasi, they’d discussed it. He’d never say anything even if she was sticking her hand down stripper pants, because he was Hermod, but he could still be hurt. And Bast loathed the idea of hurting or disappointing Hermod, because she fully expected to do both on a regular basis without even trying, and someday he would walk away. But they had just finished sorting shit out and getting shit started, and dammit, this wouldn’t even be her fault! It was Ninkasi’s for not thinking ahead!
“How would you like it if I let your boyfriend think that we were making guys strip for us?” Nevermind that that was exactly what seemed to be happening. A pair of pants flew somewhere to the left even as Bast pulled out her own smartphone. Tapping away, she read aloud even as she typed the text that she’d never send. “Dear Kray-kray, we’re out having a ball, getting drunk and getting college boys out of their pants. Boy, there sure is a lot of peen up in here. Love, Bast.”
Turning the phone so it would be visible to Kasi, she leaned over the table and raised her brows. “I don’t—“