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Both our eyes go down, confused for only half a second before we realize what it is: Toby’s gotwood—and little amount of material in those shorts to contain it

Are we going to ignore it? Are we going to acknowledge it?

Ignore it “Thanks for gettingme up? “I mean off the hard floor,” I quickly add Hard? Why did I say hard? “Off the floor,” I a me up off the floor”

That was unnecessarily difficult to say

Then I feel it flex again, this time twice as hard

And twice as urgently

Toby rolls his eyes back and clenches them shut, mortified

“I’d better get you off,” I realize

Toby’s eyes flash open

What the hell did I just—? “I’d better get off of you,” I staht off of hi ever again I sit on the edge of the bed and pull on o forit on

“Are you leaving?”

I feel like I’ht date suddenly, except without the after-dinner sex Or the dinner “Gotta take a leak I remember where your bathroom is” I rise from the bed and make for the door

“Oh It’s just, uh … I ht—”

“They don’t scare me,” I throw over my back on my way out

I couldn’t get out of there or away fro sun over my head, I make a beeline for the house This sexual che Didn’t I warnht in his shed and hu wood On accident Who the hell hu wood on accident? How does that even happen?

I slip in through the sliding back door, and despite the noise of soht for the hall, into the bathroom, and shut the door The cluttered bathroo thickly in the air like steas at an odd angle, giving me a perfect head-to-knee-ish view of myself and my bedhead as I relieve myself