The days fly by faster than I expect them to, and before I know it, it’s Thursday night. A tappity-tap-tap-tapping at my bedroom window catches my attention and pulls me out of bed. Is it an owl? A sleepy squirrel? One of those hard plastic-looking brown bugs that are dumber than mud but pinch you if you aren’t careful and accidentally sit on them? And of course my mind goes there… what if it’s a serial killer? I know, I know— a serial killer who knocks? But, just to be safe, I grab a golf club from my bag, and creep across the floor to the window to investigate. Careful not to cast a shadow across the blinds, I lift the edge to peek out… and the air whooshes out of me, leaving me as limp as a fresh-cooked noodle.
“Kelly? Seriously? You had me tripping! Do you know what time it is?” I toss the club in the vicinity of the bag and throw open the window, “Get your butt in here before the mosquitoes eat you alive! And hurry— I don’t want to let all the bugs in.”
“You’re the one who opened the window.” He shoves his upper body through the opening backwards, grips the window trim, and pulls himself up onto the ledge like it’s nothing while I try not to swoon. “What were you planning to do with that club if I’d been a legit bad guy?”
“Duh, I wouldn’t have opened the window.”
“Fat lotta good that would have done. I was watching— it wasn’t even locked.”
“Your point?”
“My point? You wouldn’t have had to open it. They would have done it for you.”
“They who?”
“The freaking bad guy.”
I struggle to keep a straight face. “What bad guy?”
“The— aww, forget it.” He sighs and I can hear his annoyance in the heavy sound. Now I feel bad for teasing him.
I study him, “No, I don’t want to forget it. Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Obviously it’s not nothing. What’s on your mind? Spit it out.”
“It’s just… I can’t get past you sleeping with your window unlocked. That’s just asking for trouble.”
I grit my teeth, but remind myself he’s simply concerned about me and try to keep my irritation out of my voice, “Who says I sleep with my window unlocked?”
He snorts, “When’s the last time you checked it?”
“I went out it a couple nights back.”
“My point exactly. You’ve slept since then, too.”
I grin at him, my mood lightening, “You have no proof of that.”
“I don’t need proof.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“And you are?”
“Quit trying to distract me. Would you have checked it if I hadn’t come over?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe, my ass. One of these nights someone is going to sneak in and—“
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