“You may be ready to let it go,” he says in a seductive whisper, his posture dripping sex, “but I promise you he’s not. Nod if you understand me.” I slowly nod. “He’s about a second away from busting through the glass door.” “You’re terrible,” I giggle like a seventeen-year-old. He leans in closer and grins. “In three, two, one.” The storm door bursts open, and I look over to see Eli pushing up his sleeves as he charges toward us, his frame taut, his expression the picture of annoyance as he makes his way down the stairs.
hahahaha love this scene
