“Doesn’t work with the PPE I have to wear at work,” he explained, stepping aside so Amanda could hug Olivia in turn. He stroked his newly denuded chin and posed, one peaked eyebrow raised in question. “What do you think?”

She pursed her lips and pretended to think it over. “Sexy,” she decided. “Kind of boyishly sinister.”

“Boyishly sinister?” He laughed and shook his head. “And to think, I almost didn’t come tonight.”

“I’m glad you did.” Olivia worked up a pout. “We don’t see nearly enough of you anymore.”

“I know. I love the ER, but twelve-hour night shifts have killed my social life.”

“Not that I’m not thrilled you’re here, Sam,” Sadie interrupted. “But find a seat and shut up.”

“She’s a little scary,” Olivia whispered.

“I’ll protect you, darling,” he said, and sent Sadie a sunny smile when she glared at them.

It took a few minutes, but soon they were all seated, beverages in hand, looking at Olivia expectantly. Amanda had wedged herself in between Rebecca and Sadie on the small sofa, and Sam was perched on a small ottoman that was proving to be far more decorative than functional.

“Are you sure this will hold me?” he asked, a glass of Chardonnay in one hand and a plate of cheese and crackers in the other. He was holding them aloft as he tried to balance himself on the fabric cube, which appeared to be slowly collapsing beneath him.

“Just don’t put your full weight on it, and you’ll be fine,” Sadie advised.

“Jesus,” Sam muttered, and stood, leaving a dent in the crushed orange velvet. “I’ll just stand.”

“Do whatever you want, but shut up,” Sadie said, and pointed at Olivia. “You were saying?”

“Um. Where was I?”

“Cade’s penis,” Sadie said helpfully while Amanda choked on her wine.

“Right. His penis is good.”

“You are so bad at this,” Sadie said with a sigh.

“Sadie,” Amanda said warningly while Olivia hid her smile in her wineglass. “It’s not our business unless Olivia wants to share.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll accept ‘good’,” Sadie said, putting air quotes around the words just in case anyone missed the sarcasm dripping from them. “You don’t happen to have any pictures, do you?”

“Sadie,” Rebecca and Amanda said at the same time.

Olivia burst out laughing. “Sorry, no.”

“I’m working with amateurs,” Sadie muttered darkly.

“Olivia,” Amanda began with a warning look for Sadie, who rolled her eyes and sipped her wine. “You don’t owe us any information, and we’re not going to push you if you don’t want to share. But we’re your friends, and we worry about you, and, well, we would like to know if the consensual non-consent play is going well.”

“It is. I mean, we just got started, and we haven’t done that much yet—”