“Three fingers on melted skin made you think about a threesome. Life is certainly never boring in your head, is it?” “Well, no. I was thinking about sex.” When she blurts the last part out, she finally looks a little embarrassed. But not that embarrassed. “You were touching my feet . . . and thinking about sex?” Disbelief bleeds into every syllable. She’s the most entertaining blend of innocent and curious. “Yeah. I mean,”—her head wobbles—“to be fair, I think about sex a lot.” I scrub a hand over my face, covering my eyes. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” She scoffs playfully as she traces my feet
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