You never knew what you were going to get for weather in Colorado in October. Jesse remembered the disappointment of having to cover up a painstakingly chosen Halloween costume with a parka and a hat to go trick-or-treating in the snow as clearly as he remembered the year he went as an Olympic diver and ran through North Denver with nothing but a Speedo and a bag of candy, so he mentally catalogued an Outfit Plan A, B, and C for his date with Willis. If anything his tummy had gotten a little bigger, but he’d found a pair of jeans in a thrift store on a Seattle layover so black they looked purple—so purple they looked black?—that showcased his butt like they’d been designed to hug his specific curves and no others. He wanted to wear his boots, but he got a pedicure in case they were still b
