Lane
My palms itch as we walk up to the reservationist. I underestimated how hard it would be to keep my hands to myself, especially around a bunch of other men while Fey is wearing a dress that is begging to be torn off her. It’s a struggle to keep from pulling her into my side and kissing the top of her head.
“Mr. Clyner. If you’ll please follow me right this way.” The man, Walter, says before I even get a word in. I smile. I have always liked Walter, he is good at his job and always respectful to everyone. He’s one of my favorite humans, and also one of the funniest I have ever met.
Fey leans into my side, without me having to touch her, and whispers so Walter can’t hear. “How did he know your name and that you had a reservation before you even said anything?”
I lean down and whis
