“Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.” He grinned at me and started up the stairs with a flourish of his hips.
I couldn’t remember the correct comeback. I wasn’t in the mood to play his games anyway. I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the good bottle of Scotch – the one hidden way in the back of the cabinet. I plunked it on the table, grabbed a glass, and sat down to consider our options.
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