“All of my clothes are in the rental car at that bar,” I tell her. I want nothing more than a shower, but I don’t have any clothes to wear. “You can wear something of mine,” she suggests, even though we both know I could never fit into her clothes. “Or Christian’s. He has some shorts and a shirt you—” “No, hell no,” Hardin interrupts, throwing Kimberly a hard glare as he stands. “I’ll go get your shit. You aren’t wearing his clothes.”
Ohmygod GROW UP
