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"She’s not," I say, giving in "She’s not co home at all"

Aaron smiles and ht be the hottest words in the English language"

So into my lower back: the spine, probably, of the pullout couch I try to ignore it, try and get into the mood, whatever that means (I’ve never understood that phrase; ityou choose, like putting on a pair of pants Dara and I once decided that "sex-ht Butpair of sweatpants)

But when Aaron shifts his weight, leans into s, I let out a sharp cry

"What?" He sits back, instantly apologetic "Sorry--did I hurt you?"

"No" Now I’into "

Aaron srown out He brushes it away fro my arm away from my chest "You’re beautiful"

"You’re biased," I say Aaron’s the beautiful one I love how tall he is, and how small he makes me feel; I love the way basketball has defined his shoulders and arht shining through auturows silky-straight

I love so ra picture, to loving him, I don’t Or I can’t I’m not sure which, and I don’t know that it matters

Aaron reaches out and grabsme onto his lap siain, exploring htly up and down : with cautious optiht startle away fro out stupid ihts, but suddenly all I can focus on is the TV, which is still on, and still replaying old episodes of so show

I pull away and just for a second, Aaron lets his frustration show

"Sorry," I say "I’m just not sure I can do this to a soundtrack of The Price Chopper"

Aaron reaches for the re on the floor next to our shirts "Do you want to change it?"