“You’ll need me in a zombie apocalypse.” “Yeah, I will. I plan on making a fucking beeline to your house.” “I’ll keep the storm shutters up for an hour. Then I gotta close them and lock the house up tight.” “One hour? That’s it?” I snapped the gloves over my fingers. “Don’t I deserve at least two? I’m the love of your fucking life.” “Facts not in evidence,” he said. “Besides, it’s too risky.” “Your conscience will eat you alive long before a zombie harvests you for brains.” He chuckled as we continued to search boxes. “You wish. I’ll rest easy, safe in my stronghold, secure in the knowledge
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