Remy didn’t really remember which night Josie had moved from the couch to the other side of his bed. He didn’t remember the first time they’d had sex either. She’d never asked and he’d never said no. Or was it the other way around? Josie might’ve had a few more curves and a tattoo he didn’t remember from their first time around, but he had more curves too. Remy knew no one would confuse his own life for one of clean eating and keeping fit. It didn’t matter. She was beautiful.

  Defining a relationship established expectations. Remy couldn’t define anything about Josie. They each kept their own hours, ran down their own leads, and occasionally came home smelling of smoke, cheap booze, and strange scents. It was like a broken-in pair of shoes, worn down in all the right places. They’d slipped right into the habit. It was easy. Comfortable.

  Josie had made fajitas that night. Well, she had warmed up the take-out and added some hot sauce. Remy picked at his own slowly. Tomorrow was Saturday, and they’d been unable to think of any other way into the Freeworker’s basement than straight down the main lift’s.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I think I’ll have to go back tomorrow then.” Remy said, picking a hot pepper from his plate. “Maybe I can get us an invite to the auction itself. Don’t know how much it’ll help with Franklin already there but it’ll be something at least.”

  “You can get one?” Josie attacked her own meal with fervor, though there must’ve been more cheese than chicken on her tortilla.

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. It wasn’t much of a hope but his basic plan was just to ask Claire for the code that night. If they could at least get down there, it gave them a chance at something. “Did you have any luck today finding where that dummy Vasc is?”

  “Not really. Luis didn’t seem to remember it and shuffled off before I could offer much more.” Remy’d been shot down point blank when he’d asked and he thought a pretty face might’ve stood a better chance. Apparently not. “We’ll find it, though.”

  He grunted, chewing a tough piece of replicated chicken.

  After dinner, they settled onto the couch and flipped through the channels. There was nothing good on. Josie dragged him to bed after he’d started snoring during the late shows. She pulled his arm over her and nestled in close under the covers. She fits so neatly there. He thought. Remy was still teasing out what her shampoo smelled like when he drifted to sleep.

  Comfortable and easy.