Oh thank god Much thought, when Mary text came through, but also oh dear god some of his muscles hurt. Belinda had kept him up all night and the thing Much kept thinking, after grabbing a few hours of sleep at home in the morning, was I really need to do more core exercises.
This was, he was aware, not the more pertinent thought.
More pertinent was: if this wasn't ending (and it wasn't, Much couldn't let it - she was too... he just couldn't let it) how the hell was he going to keep this a secret? At least Alan wasn't home all the time anymore. At least he was going out to play pretty often, and wouldn't be able to tell when Much wasn't home.
Shit, he didn't want to think about it. Any of it. So when Mary's text came through things turned from antsy to brilliant.
This is a sext he sent her back, because sometimes talking in code was fun and sometimes breaking out of code was fun, and Mary was fun and oh god he needed fun. Uncomplicated fun. Uncomplicated, unrestrained, summer fun.
He scanned the room for Mary when he walked in, doing a double take to see someone with Mary's figure (he was very familiar with Mary's figure) and posture, though her hair had changed. Redder. What did that mean? It wigged him out, but it didn't stop him coming over, sliding in tightly beside her at the bar so his shoulder pressed warmly up against hers. "This is a follow up to a sext," he said, grinning at her, amused with himself and trying to work out the hair.