Tripp laughs as he pulls me down the chute. “You’re such an attention whore.” “It’s not my fault you’re irresistible. In fact, it’s your fault I can never stop touching you, and you should take pity on me.” “Why? I’m the one being smothered with attention.” “Oh, no,” I mock. “My husband loves me.” “I swear, any excuse for you to use the H word.” “I know how much you like hearing it.” “I prefer the L word myself.” “Loser?” “Fuck you.” “Naw.” I ruffle his sweaty red hair. “Look at you being all affectionate.” Tripp bats my hand away. “You’re bad for my image.” “Sure, because it’s my fault you’re
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