“Ah, c’mon, Ol. Don’t you remember how much fun we had last weekend? You’re on vacation! Let’s party!” Do I remember how much fun I had? Which part? Grinding all over Cara because being a respectable human five days a week is exhausting and I desperately needed to let loose? Or Carter Beckett telling me he wanted to fuck me silly and buy me breakfast? Maybe it was the two-hour post-pizza-and-Carter nap, followed by three hours of Brooklyn 99 reruns after I got home from my brother’s house Sunday night. I guess it was kinda fun.
