The problem with being in love with Caoimhe for ten years was that anyone Eddie was with knew it. He didn't make a habit of announcing it to them- they just discovered it for themselves. Some were jealous, which meant that whenever Caoimhe was in the same room as Eddie, his partner would hang off his arm and try their hardest to keep his attention. Some were pissed and yelled at him about it, which he probably deserved even though he didn't think he was a bad guy to be with. He just- he just had already given his heart to a girl who wove flower crowns as she shouted along to whatever shitty band she was obsessed with. He couldn't help it.

Then there was Victoria, who Eddie had dated for almost two years at the beginning of high school. She adored Caoimhe, and Caoimhe adored her right back. She'd come to lunch with Chrissy and whisk Victoria away for girl talk, which Eddie never figured out what that was about. Victoria didn't hate Caoimhe because Caoimhe wasn't doing anything. She wasn't the other woman Eddie was cheating with. She was just herself, and Eddie loved her- it was a fact of life at that point. Eddie Munson loved Caoimhe Brennan. Sure, he could date and fuck other people, but it always came back to Caoimhe. When Eddie and Victoria broke up because she was going back to Australia for university, she'd looked Eddie right in the eye and said, "Caoimhe's the only one you've seen for years. You should take a chance and do something about it, Eddie. Or you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it."

But the worst were the ones that tried to make Caoimhe jealous. They were fighting in a war that didn't exist. Caoimhe didn't get jealous. Or so he thought. She'd told him a few nights ago when they were laying on his bed that she would get so jealous that she'd make herself sick from it. Eddie knew how she felt. She always had a few punk rock losers trailing after her like lovesick puppies. Eddie wanted to bash their teeth in. He hated the guy she took to her senior prom because she'd called Eddie and asked if he could pick her up. It was raining, and Caoimhe was standing in a prom dress made of too much tulle, holding her heels. She'd been wavering between excitement and disgust at the idea of attending senior prom, but she eventually decided to go. When Eddie pulled up, she flung herself into his van and turned up his radio. He got the story out of her after he got her stoned- her date ended up hooking up with someone else in the woods behind Hawkins High. How the hell? They ended up on the magic bus moshing to a Judas Priest album. Caoimhe was an awful dancer, but she'd smiled so hard like Eddie was her own personal hero that it didn't matter when she elbowed him on the chin.

"Do you want your gifts now or after?" Caoimhe asked.

It was his twentieth birthday, which meant a D&D one-shot and a wild weekend that included drugs, friends, music, and, Ozzy willing, his girlfriend. Caoimhe'd started offering singing lessons in the back room of Lucky Charms a while back when she started helping Jeff with Little Shop of Horrors. She'd gotten an influx of customers after word had gotten out, thanks to Chrissy and Caoimhe's brothers. It was good; she needed money like everybody else on the fucking planet, but Eddie felt like he was missing a limb. He had her all to himself and wanted her near him all the time.

Luckily, she had timed it to burst into the room after D&D was over to kiss him. She'd sat on his throne like she belonged there, and Eddie all but forgot about his shitty day thus far. He'd been cornered by the basketball team and ridiculed but with a new twist: a lack of Jason Carver leading the charge. He was still there, just not as obnoxious. Eddie had thought he'd seen Chrissy talking to him about it. Not that Carver would respect her or her opinion on Eddie. He didn't seem the type.

But no matter. He and Caoimhe were now sprawled out on his throne, she in his lap curled up tight after riding him so nice that he almost blacked out.

"Gifts now," Eddie said.

"Okay."

Eddie reached for the gift bag she'd left on the table and pulled out some tissue paper. Inside, there were two cassettes and a really sick guitar strap. He tipped the bag over and grabbed the first cassette. Four wonderful days ago, Metallica blessed the planet with a new album. Eddie hadn't heard any of the songs yet, but they had such good reviews that he'd gone to Lucky Charms every day for the last few days to see if they had yet gotten Master of Puppets in.

"We actually got them delivered the day the album came out," said Caoimhe. "But I intercepted the delivery and hid 'em all so I could give one to you for your birthday."

"You saw me running around for days and just let that happen? Despicable. Never keep a guy from his metal," Eddie said. "I should kill you for this. I might. Don't do it again."

"I hope it's as good as you said it would be."

"Oh, did you not know? You're listening to it with me."

"Absolutely not. I'd rather die a gruesome and painful death."

"Come on. I'll listen to the new Ramones album in May if you listen to this."

"That's bribery, Eddie."

"Would you rather I extort you?" Eddie asked. "Okay, fine. Caoimhe, if you don't listen to this album with me, I will never go down on you again."

Caoimhe's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me, sweetheart. This the hill you really wanna die on?"

"Fuck you; eat shit. Fine, I'll listen to your new metal god album-"

"Atta girl," Eddie interrupted.

"-But only because I really like you," she finished.

The guitar strap was nice, Eddie decided when he looked it over. He didn't look that closely because the second cassette had Caoimhe's handwriting on it. On the top, she had written, Tell anyone about this, and no one will find your body.

"You made me a mixtape!" Eddie cheered.

She looked a little pink.

"It isn't what you think it is. Just- fair warning. Be nice, okay?"

Eddie had pulled out the paper on which she had painstakingly written the lyrics to all the songs. There was no punk or even goddamn show tunes. It was. Eddie had no idea what it was. Queen, Janis Joplin, something called "Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers," all bands he would have never in a million years associate with Caoimhe.

"All of those songs on there have special meaning to me. If you're going to make fun of them, I will punch you in the face so fucking hard I'll break your nose," Caoimhe snarled when Eddie'd been quiet for more than a few seconds.

It dawned on him what this must have been. Caoimhe, in the way that they seemed to communicate best, was showing Eddie a piece of her that no one had ever seen before. She clung to punk rock music and Doc Martens with grim resignation. Kids weren't nice to her when she first came to Hawkins, and she threw away every part of her old self. She knew that once she got out of Hawkins, she could be whoever she wanted to be, but until she left, she had to be the complete opposite of her parents. Before she left for Tisch, Eddie saw glimpses of the pieces of herself that she kept hidden. She'd lay on the grass for ages and was always trying to get him to go camping with her. Little things. But there was something different ever since she'd returned from Ireland. She slept on the magic bus and made sure everyone knew it. She had a small garden and was helping Kieren grow herbs. She made hummus and didn't even pretend that she liked red meat. Eddie would pick her up, and she'd touch him with dye-stained hands. She'd smear purple fingerprints on his cheek when she kissed him. Eddie never liked beets, but he was starting to.

With each song lyric, Caoimhe'd written a small explanation about why she liked that particular song. "American Girl" and "Uptown Girl" for Kieran and Chrissy, respectively. "Like a Rolling Stone" for Eamon. "Crimson and Clover" and "Piece of My Heart" for Eddie. There were more, but he was focused on his.

"I'm clearly the favorite," he said.

He could feel her slump with relief.

"Clearly," Caoimhe said.

"Why "Crimson and Clover?'" he asked.

"The bridge reminds me of that one time we dropped acid. The stars looked 3D. And, you know, it's us. First sight. I thought it fit."

They danced around it constantly, neither willing to say "I love you" like they were competing to see who would break first. But it was so hard. Eddie wanted to whisper it in Caoimhe's ear when she was soft and sleepy in his arms. Wanted to scream it on stage at the Hideout when she was throwing peanuts at him. Wanted to say it when he had her in his lap, sucking hickies into her collarbones. Write it in a song, shout it from the goddamn rooftops, anything. Every time she looked at him with those eyes of hers, he wanted to say it. But he held back. It was too early, and Eddie was sure she knew anyway.

(Whenever Eddie imagined what it would be like to be with Caoimhe, he thought that it would be exactly how it was being her friend, except that he got to see her naked. They'd still rib each other over the other's music choices, get high, or study together. They'd hang out every day, making time wherever they found themselves. So far, though, that hadn't been the case. He was dating his best friend, sure, but it was a million times better- like fucking fireworks. Eddie felt like he was on top of the world every time he made Caoimhe come. His traitorous heartbeat sped up every time she glanced in his direction. He was so in love.)

"Yeah."

"Listen, you've got my heart on a cassette right there," she said. "Please don't...stomp all over it."

Christ, as if he could ever.

"I'll more than likely hate every song on here on principle, but, you know, I suffered through every single one of your stage performances because you were in 'em," Eddie said.

More dancing around, but that was more obvious than he'd ever been before. He'd never admitted to her that the only reason he went to every musical and play that Hawkins Middle and High Schools put on was all because of her. Eddie swallowed and wondered if he could just laugh it off.

"That's it right there, huh?" Caoimhe asked softly.

"I mean, I kept all those tapes."

"You did." She was smiling so widely it made Eddie ache. "And here I thought you actually liked Hair."

"Not really. Or Grease."

"What about our child-safe version of Chicago?"

"That one was terrible."

"Right? I didn't even get to mimic the murder I committed."

"Bullshit."

Eddie closed his eyes when Caoimhe ran her fingers through his hair.

"Hey, I fucking missed you," she said.

"Missed you too. You need to quit."

"I need money, Eds."

"I know," he signed, dramatically clutching his chest. "You could always sell drugs with me."

"Uh, no. Remember what happened last time?"

Eddie did remember. He'd managed to get his hands on some bennies for an unfortunate suburban housewife who needed a little pick-me-up to help her through the day. He (and Caoimhe) tested the product beforehand to see if it was okay. The pills were fine; they did what they were supposed to do. That was until Caoimhe started getting very aggressive. Eddie had to fireman carry her back out of town after she started screaming at passersby. They ended up getting picked up by Chief Hopper, but he was a weird police chief who didn't care much and let Caoimhe tire herself out in a holding cell. He didn't even drug test them- just shook his head, mumbled about "fuckin' teenagers," then fell asleep at his desk.

New rule, Eddie had written on a Post-It from Hopper and stuck it to Caoimhe's forehead when she'd eventually conked out after punching the cell's stone walls until her knuckles bled. New rule: Only Eddie tries the amphetamines. She'd pouted about it for a little while until she realized she'd broken two fingers.

Hopper had taken the bennies after he let them go. Caoimhe was bad for Eddie's thriving drug business, but he'd still bring her along if it meant that she'd be with him whenever he wanted.

"We'd just stay away from the amphetamines," he said. "Or I could help you with lessons. Break out the ol' acoustic and play."

Caoimhe kissed him. She still did it like she was ready to go punch someone in the face. All bruising lips and sharp teeth left Eddie feeling like a swooning maiden. She shifted, straddling his thighs and running her hands through his hair. He liked it when she petted him, nails running across his body so lightly he shivered with it. It felt a little too much like love. Eddie had been with plenty of girls before, but the majority of them were ones he met at the Hideout or who paid for their drugs in sexual favors. He knew it was a dominance thing because he looked like the kind of guy who'd gag you on his dick, which was true. But he liked a soft touch, too. Caoimhe figured that out pretty quickly. She'd always known him better than anyone.

They parted to breathe, Eddie reaching up to wrap a hand around her neck. Caoimhe liked it rough sometimes. She liked it rough but never mean, which was good because he couldn't ever be mean to her. Couldn't fathom calling her a slut or a whore even in the heat of the moment.

"Happy birthday to me," he said, squeezing her throat to watch her pretty eyes glaze over.

"I fucking hate you," Caoimhe moaned like she always did whenever Eddie figured out how to get her wrapped around his finger.

It was only fair, really, seeing as he'd been wrapped around hers since the summer of 1976.

"Yeah, you do," he crooned, brushing their lips together. "You hate me so much. I know, sweetheart, I know. Come here."

Eddie kissed her this time, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She put a hand on the back of the throne so she could lean into him, a breathy laugh when he scrambled to push up the oversized sweater that she wore like a dress and press his fingers into her skin. Three squeezes of her waist. Chrissy, the only one who knew they were together, told him when all three of them were hanging out after he had asked.

"You know," Chrissy explained to Eddie when Caoimhe had left the room after squeezing Chrissy's shoulder three times, "Three squeezes, three words." She'd looked innocent and devious all at the same time. Eddie hadn't known what to say.

Caoimhe smiled; he could feel it. He had severe tunnel vision when it came to her, but it was the worst when he had her like this, kissing her like he'd die tomorrow. Nothing else mattered but the weight of her on his lap, the nip of her teeth, the warmth of her fingers in his hair, the heat of her desire. He had spent lifetimes wanting her.

Eddie took a breath when she pulled back to mouth at his neck. He tipped his head so she could give him some new marks. She bit him three times. He melted into his chair.

"Look at you, baby. I'm so lucky," Caoimhe mused.

"Don't start."

"You compliment me all the time, so it's my turn." She met his eyes, stroking the bridge of his nose. "Let's see; you're doing so well in physics. You're so smart and work so hard. I can't wait to see you walk that stage and flip off Principal Higgins."

"Stop."

"I'm not done yet. It's your birthday, so you get complimented. You are amazing as hell, and I am so proud of you. You're my best friend."

"Fucking quit it."

"You're so pretty, Eds," she murmured. "How could anyone think you're evil when you look like that?"

Eddie whined, feeling his face burning. Caoimhe kissed both of his cheeks before he could hide behind his hair. How did she do that, get him so flustered so fast? This was love- bone deep. It had to be. People weren't ever this sweet to him. He was just Eddie Munson, the town freak to strangers, or Eddie Munson, the leader of the Hellfire Club to his friends. He got complimented on how well he wrote a campaign, for his drugs, or for how well he played guitar. He got women because they wanted to piss off dear ol' mom and dad or because they thought he'd choke 'em as he fucked them in the back of his van. He'd gotten hot and sexy but never pretty. No fucking wonder Caoimhe made him blush so hard. He wasn't used to compliments like this but wanted her to keep going and never stop. If he could move, he'd get down on one knee right that second.

"I know you have class soon," she continued, biting the end of his nose. "But I can wax poetic about your hands for a few minutes if you want me to."

"...What about my hands?"

"I'm so glad you asked. They're so nice. I love watching you play guitar and when you put your hand around my neck. Your rings make it look good."

"Yeah?"

"You're telling me in all the years I've come to see you play at the Hideout, you've never noticed me staring at your hands? Crossing my legs and wishing that you'd touch me like you touch your guitar? Beautiful fingers and all?"

"I'll do it now," Eddie blurted. "Anytime you want, sweetheart. Whenever you want. Call me at four in the morning, and I'll be there."

"Eds," Caoimhe murmured.

"Can't ever have enough. Been waiting for, shit, years, Kee."

He wasn't talking about his fingers anymore and kissed her before he said anything else. Three words. Three kisses. Caoimhe pulled away, pretty eyes so determined like she was deep in thought. Eddie thought they were Arwen and Aragorn, Celeborn and Galadriel, Beren and LĂșthien. She wouldn't get any of those references, but they had all the time in the world for her to learn.

"I wanna show you something," she said. "'S why I didn't wanna take off my top. It's still healing."

"What?"

"I got it professionally done, so don't make fun of me." Caoimhe pulled her sweater over her head; her voice was muffled when she got stuck. "I wasn't risking Hep C by getting it done by that weird guy in your trailer park."

She set her sweater on her lap and tapped the words she'd inked into her skin. One of the songs he'd put on the mixtape he'd made her- my heart's in exile, it read in his handwriting. Eddie felt sick with love. Carve out his fucking heart and hand it to her on a silver platter. It had always been hers, anyway.

"I can't believe your first tattoo is a W.A.S.P. lyric," he said after he'd collected himself enough not to shout right in her face.

"You liked it enough to make it the first song on my mixtape," she replied. "'Your heart's in exile, huh?"

"It's why I'm called Eddie the Banished, didn't you know? At least, until the princess-turned-assassin brings me home."

"And then after she brings you home?"

"Then, I'll be there forever. Living the high life with her on her magic bus."

Caoimhe smiled. "A bus is pretty conspicuous for an assassin and a thief."

"Nah, we'd make it work." He looked down at her tattoo again. "Can I touch it?"

"Uh, absolutely not."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you haven't washed your hands since we had sex, and I am not risking cellulitis or some other gross infection from your filthy high school boy fingers."

"Didn't have a problem with my fingers when they were shoved up inside you twenty minutes ago," Eddie grumbled.

"Because you washed them beforehand, dumbass," she said, poking Eddie in the chest.

"I'll wash my hands right now."

"Eds, you've got physics in like fifteen minutes."

"And?"

"What do you mean "and?" You've got to go to class."

"Are you serious? It's my birthday!"

"Baby," Caoimhe began, using that stupid voice that made Eddie want to do whatever she wanted. "You want to graduate, right? You're doing so well in your other classes, and you're on track to get at least a D in physics. If you don't skip anymore. Besides, isn't there a drama class a few feet from here that starts last period?"

"Nobody ever comes in here except the Hellfire Club. No one has keys except for me."

"Eds, please go to class. For me?"

Goddamn it, with the fucking eyes and everything. Eddie wasn't strong enough to resist when she looked at him like that, lip quivering for extra emphasis. He knew she did the lip thing on purpose, but he was so weak for her anyway.

"Fine," he muttered, folding like a house of cards.

She started fixing herself- pulling her dress back on and smoothing down her hair. Eddie snapped her bra strap.

"Ow! Bastard!" Caoimhe yelped.

"That's revenge for makin' me go to class when I could be fucking you instead."

"It's only fifty minutes, dickhead. That hurt!"

"You're so mean to me, Kee," Eddie lamented, draping himself over her shoulder.

"No, I'm not. You're mean to me. Go to class already."

"Jesus, fine."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Come on. I'll even walk you."

"How benevolent of you, you academic tyrant," said Eddie, grabbing his metal lunchbox.

He threw his arm around her shoulder, and Caoimhe grabbed his hand, only to bite his knuckles. Eddie refused to say anything about it if she decided to do it again. They headed out into the hallway, Eddie leading her toward his locker. It was in between classes, and they had to weave past many students who kinda peeked at them out of the corner of their eyes. Caoimhe'd been gone long enough that only the seniors, some juniors, and a few younger kids knew who she was, but everybody knew Eddie. Probably thought he went out one night and made a blood sacrifice on a virgin only for her to be possessed by a demon to be his bride or some other bullshit like that.

"How did you even get in?" Eddie asked, digging through piles of crap to find some kind of writing utensil.

She'd gotten him to want to impress her with how prepared for classes he was. Which wasn't turning out so well because he never seemed to have any school supplies. At least he found his textbook.

"Eds, come on, don't insult my intelligence. I snuck out of this place so much. Don't you think I'd know how to sneak back in?" She dug through her bag and found a pencil. "You need this?"

"Thanks."

"Uh-huh." Caoimhe sniffed. "Do you know that your locker smells like old bologna?"

"Fried bologna, actually."

"Even worse. D'you know what that's made out of?"

"Uh-"

"Meat byproducts!" she cried before Eddie could answer. "You have no idea what's in that stuff! You're eating muscle and bone and sinew!"

Eddie closed his locker and smacked his head against the front as he waited for Caoimhe to quit ranting about bologna. She always had an issue with whatever Eddie was currently eating. Hot dogs, Spam, canned meat, now bologna. Would the torment ever end? She couldn't talk, seeing as she ate the weirdest shit ever.

"I don't take criticism from someone who eats peanut butter and lettuce sandwiches," Eddie said when Caoimhe had stopped ranting.

"How dare you? They're delicious!" she cried.

"We aren't rationing for World War Two anymore. You can add jelly now. Or a banana. Or honey. Or, hell, even chocolate."

"Eds, listen, no, Eddie, listen, we lived on a bus. We didn't have much money."

"And you still eat that shit because?"

"It's nostalgic!"

"Kee, I like you so much, but lettuce and peanut butter are disgusting," said Eddie, throwing his arm around her shoulder again.

She really was the perfect height for him to do that. He loved it when she burrowed into his side like she was hiding. Big, bad Eddie the Banished shielding his princess-turned-assassin from the dangers of Hawkins High. Caoimhe was hot as fuck, too, which made it even better like maybe people had something to be jealous of. The freak himself bagged Caoimhe Brennan. He puffed out his chest and wondered what Caoimhe'd do if he pushed her up against his locker and kissed her in front of everyone.

"CHRISSY! HEY, CHRISSY!" Caoimhe shouted so loudly Eddie went momentarily deaf.

Chrissy Cunningham waved. Her ponytail bounced as she walked toward them. He'd seen more of Chrissy Cunningham in the last couple of weeks than he'd seen since Caoimhe was at Hawkins High. Chrissy had apparently been staying at Caoimhe's place more than her own. It was awkward at first, but Chrissy was kind. And Caoimhe made a great buffer now that she wasn't trying to set them up anymore. Eddie had asked Caoimhe recently how she felt about Jason Carver- y'know, trying to gauge if he was giving her grief for being friends with his girlfriend (and the Queen of Hawkins High). Caoimhe had smiled her sunniest smile and refused to say anything. Eddie wondered what that meant.

Eddie backed away as Chrissy stopped directly in front of them. He didn't want anyone to start anything. Caoimhe had the insane ability to ignore when people were staring, but Eddie had to attend this school. Confidence gone. He kept darting his eyes around for any rogue basketball players. Shit was weird. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing. Granted, no one had slammed him into a locker since Caoimhe had gotten home for whatever reason. He doubted that meant he'd be left alone for good.

"-Tuesday at seven. Right, Eds?"

"Huh?" he asked.

"Chrissy wants to come to your gig at the Hideout next week. Is that cool?" Caoimhe asked.

"Huh?"

"She likes drummers," Caoimhe said with as much subtlety as a brick being smashed through a window.

Chrissy, who Eddie had never seen do such an act of violence, elbowed Caoimhe in the chest. He felt like he was in an alternate dimension.

"Ow! Jesus, Chris! You do!"

"Just ignore her, Eddie," Chrissy said in her soft little voice. "But I do want to come."

"Roger Taylor, Dennis Wilson, Ringo Starr, Karen Carpenter for sure," Caoimhe listed.

"Nikki, quit it. Eddie?"

"Huh? Oh, right, yeah. You can come. We get a crowd of, like, five drunks, though, so it isn't anything big."

"I hear the peanuts are good," Chrissy said innocently.

What.

Eddie put his hands on Caoimhe's cheeks and shook her.

"Kee, what the hell have you been telling her?"

"That you're good, but it's fun to throw peanuts at you and heckle you anyway," she replied. "Let go of me."

"I played softball as a child," Chrissy added.

Eddie was definitely in an alternate dimension. Everything looked the same, save for the head cheerleader planning on coming to Corroded Coffin's gig and badgering them while they played. Wait, did Chrissy even like metal music? He didn't think she did. She always played Billy Joel, Queen, Prince, and other crap like that. She liked Elton John. But he had also heard her singing along to a few punk songs, so maybe she'd like metal? What the fuck was happening? People were definitely looking. Eddie caught a few stares and whispers. How did Caoimhe (and Chrissy!) not notice? He couldn't hold everyone back if they decided to attack! He was one man.

"You were the best thrower on the team," Caoimhe agreed.

"I wasn't, but it's nice of you to say. I'll see you tonight?" Chrissy said.

"Eam's making that tofu stir fry thing," Caoimhe said.

"That sounds good," Chrissy said. "I have to get to class. I'll see you later. Bye Eddie!"

Chrissy bounced away. Eddie stared after her and waited for the world to make sense again.

"Turns out Jason isn't that nice to her lately," Caoimhe said, watching Chrissy too.

"What the fuck?" Eddie asked.

His head was spinning. Nobody was paying them attention anymore.

"She's dumping him right after graduation," Caoimhe explained. "She wants to go to school out East. Boston. They had a fight a few days ago about it. That's her fake happy voice, and we just have to pretend everything's fine. She's still the head cheerleader."

"Does Chrissy even like metal?"

"I don't think she's ever listened to it. She really does want to come, though."

"I mean, yeah, she can. Didn't think it was her scene."

"You okay? World turning upside down?"

"I mean-"

Caoimhe put on a ridiculous accent, like a newscaster from the 1940s. "Head cheerleader goes to a metal gig, more at nine."

Eddie snorted and pulled her into his chest.

"Shut up," he said just as the bell rang.

"You need to go to class."

"Do I have to? Don't make me. It's my birthday."

"You gotta pass physics, Eds. Walk that stage and get your diploma. Sense of accomplishment, you know?"

"I have accomplished plenty, thank you."

"Tell you what, you go to class, and when school's out, we can go to your place, and I'll let you do whatever you want to me."

"Anything I want?" Eddie asked, perking up.

"Anything," Caoimhe repeated gravely.

Eddie considered this. It was always good with her. It was ten years of unresolved sexual tension finally going somewhere. Their chemistry was insane, and Caoimhe was a wildcat in the sack. They'd study together, and she'd remove a piece of clothing with every question Eddie got right. They'd get stoned on edibles as Eddie showed Caoimhe exactly how horny edibles made him while she did her best impression of a pillow- lumpy and unmoving unless Eddie moved her. He handcuffed her a few times when they were sure Wayne was gone, which was his new favorite thing. He didn't have a headboard or anything to cuff her to, but she went all pliant and let him do whatever he wanted to her. But it was his birthday. He wanted to do something different. Keep her handcuffed and in his bed all day or something. Get all pussy drunk and blow his load too early, then eat her out because he felt bad. So many ideas.

"Deal," Eddie eventually said. "Wear something sexy, okay?"

"Anything for the birthday boy."