“Can you put some clothes on!”
“Why? It’s an oven in here, and the repairman isn’t coming ‘til two.” Ignoring Miles, I leaned against the window, the only cool spot left in our apartment. All the AC units across the courtyard mocked me as if knowing the hell I was trapped in.
“Exactly my point! I need to go to work, and I don’t want to return to a Dear John letter telling me you eloped with the handyman.”
“Then, get over here and blow me, lover boy,” I said, turning towards Miles.
“Oh. That was lame, even for you.”
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See y’all next Monday!