“I was at Sandra’s, for a bit. But I got bored. One can only work on a sex swing for so long, I guess,” she replies with a shrug. “How … How did you get here?” “Larry.” An irrational spike of anger hits my chest like a lightning strike. “Who the fuck is Larry?” Her head tilts. “Chill, Doc. You’re touchier than a Risley juggler with athlete’s foot.”
