![]() ![]() Brinkman and the two blondes push through the screen door to the house without stopping, without looking back-without checking to see if their friend is following behind them. The trio on the porch with us choose that moment to make their escape. I dug deep into my closet for this one-you know, just in case.” ![]() I shrug it off I’m not out here for them. Possibly because I’m fresh meat to sink their cleat-chasing claws into. I acknowledge Brinkman with a fist bump, and Cock Blocker’s friends light up when they see me, two pair of eyes alive with interest and overenthusiasm. They wiggle in my direction as she raises two hands, covered in mittens, sending me a small, hopeful, wave. ![]() My mouth, goddamn it, stretches into a toothy grin when we lock eyes, her brows rising beneath her warm hat. She’s causal, leaning on the railing, not one bit of surprise marring her expression when I push through the screen door, stepping down onto the floorboards of the porch. Or when you think you might be spending an entire night on a cold porch. Or on a trip to the frozen fucking tundra. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |