They all stood in an arc around the desk with notes or books or sketches. Papers went flying in the air as the person in the center of the arc came to...her view. Rylan Washer stood before her- Tall, neat, enigmatic and to her realization, in a complete work mode. He wore a white shirt with rolled up sleeves and messed up hair. His face was screwed up in concentration. People around her seemed to all talk at once and it was more of a bee buzzing than any proper constructive discussion. Jenna. From her pulling zucchini and cucumbers from the fridge, to DJ making a smart remark about our master bedroom being our love cave. I just quietly went along with them, following behind as they mixed in small talk with a few comments about the house. We passed through the den, where I spend most of my time at the computer, both for business and pleasure, when my comedian of a husband blurted out that this was where I did all of my porn surfing. I couldn’t believe that ass said it, even though it. More

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