Before I’d even fully dressed, I could hear the movers he’d brought with him lifting side tables and odds and ends.
Porter knocked and I told him I was dressed.
He cracked the door and saw I was before pushing it open.
“Why’d you check?” I asked affronted. “You thought I’d be lying in here waiting for you?”
“A man can hope. It’s been a minute.” He said.
Making me flush that he’d beaten me at my own game. “I doubt a very long minute.”
“That’s a matter of perspective.” He shrugged. Inspecting my most intimate domain. “You want this side table.”
“It’s a bedstand.” I corrected.
“What’s the difference?”
I have no idea!
“Huge difference.” I said aloud, contrary to my inner thoughts. I crossed my arms over a loose t-shirt. Which I’d opted to throw over some frayed whi
