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“Where are you going?” I turn as our bodies separate, the air in the roo my back

“I’ the time”

“Good plan I don’t want to do the walk of sha around”

“Shame?” he drawls

“As in the expression, not as in the sense of disgrace”

“I should think you feel a sense of accohtly slaps the nightstand a couple of times before I hear him pick up his phone “You’ve drained me I feel like a shell of a man”

“Lucky for you, I have a thing for old people”

“What a coincidence I have a thing for you, too”

“Is that e’re calling the thing poking me? What time is it?”

“We’ve got hours yet,” he estively

“That can’t be right” The roohter

Alexander shuffles closer, pulling the pillow out fro it God knohere “Holland?”

“Hmm?” I soing teht squeal, blinking away the dots of white swi in front of my eyes

“It was insurance”

“I saw your phone I didn’t know you were a devotee of the selfie In fact,” I say, turning to face him as I wrap myself burrito-style in the sheet, “I noticed a distinct lack of ies of you on the internet”

His face lifts fro “I’?”

“Not exactly for you,” I reply, feeling my cheeks turn pink “It pays to research a new company before an interview”

“Hmm Sounds like I have a stalker” He presses his lips to ht like it”

“Why aren’t there any i as I think back “You know, falling out of nightclubs as a kid or tending to your duke-ly business, all staid and serious?”