"Oh s**t!" I push him away and fall to the floor as gracefully as a ballerina on drugs.
"Stay here." Ridge tosses me my shirt while working to re-button his as he walks out of the room. "Aunt Mary? The BBQ isn't until eleven."
I struggle to put my shirt on, the right sleeve wet from the sink. I give it the sniff test but can't determine the smell.
Should I sneak out the back door and come over later?
Sneak out the back door and never return?
Yes. That last one.
"My oven is on the fritz and the chicken can't be cold. It needs to cook for at least another hour before we carve into it. We can't have cold chicken, Ridley. That's a breeding ground for salmonella."
Ridley? I freeze at the edge of the counter, my position a mix between darting for the door and dropping to the floor.
"Oh!
