Mark parked his car in front of his building, and because we’d bought so much, it took the two of us four trips to carry all the bags, cartons, cases—and the box with his jodhpurs—up to his condo. And in spite of our burdens, Mark insisted on climbing the stairs.
“I... I need to h-hit the gym,” I puffed.
“Getting soft, Mann?”
“It’s these damned stairs.” He wasn’t even breathing hard. “Can... can we please take the ele-elevator up the next trip?”
“Okay. But only because you asked so nicely.”
“Ass.”
“You’re just lucky my hands are full, or else I’d show you—”
We were on the second floor landing. I put the Coke and the bag with the Perrier on the floor, then took the bags he held and put them down as well. “Your hands aren’t full now.”
“They’re not, are they?” He drew me into his arms
