Just this once
As I dare to peek upward to see who is standing above me, my hands pull furiously out of my garments.
Perhaps more astonished than I am is the guy who is observing me. Possibly. He seemed to be both amused and quite turned on at the same time, however.
“Rebecca. How did you get in here? Mary's speech sounds scratchy, as if his throat had dried out.
I spring to my feet and look about for an explanation. There is no use in lying about it since he saw what I was doing. "I wanted to assist with the housework. I point to the bag sitting next to the bathroom door and say, "I was dusting and emptying trash cans, and when I got in here, in your room, I... kind of got... um..."
Leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms over his chest, Mary remarks, "This isn't my room,"
