I lean in close and bring my mouth to her ear, not missing the blush now creeping up her neck for a second. “My wife looks like the most perfect doorstop I have ever seen,” I whisper, as my hand curls around the door handle, and I use my other to pull her away from it so I can open the door. “You really are an asshole,” she scoffs with a huff, and I have to smother a laugh as she pushes me out through the doorway, slamming it behind us. “But it’s okay, maybe I can find a new friend at the game to tell me I look pretty,” she adds with a wink, and that anger comes flooding back. “Only if you
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