He takes another step forward and tosses an arm around her shoulders, a familiar gesture. “I’d prefer it that way, m’self,” he says, equally casual. It’s always interesting, with her; he never knows where she’ll be or when she’ll come back. It’s a strange reversal, but he can’t say he dislikes it.
“Soon? Not gonna wait for whoever’s headed our way this month?”
no subject
“Soon? Not gonna wait for whoever’s headed our way this month?”