There was a knock on the bedroom door. “Matt?”
Fuck. “Nope.
Silence. “Would you be the owner of the leather pants?”
“Yep.”
She paused briefly. “I’m going to pass these through the door. You have exactly thirty seconds to pull them on, make yourself presentable and get your ass out here.”
“Do I have any other options?”
“Only if Matt’s got a window.”
He looked at the window longingly. The thirty-six-story drop with no fire escape might be less painful, but he decided there was no avoiding it. “Understood.

Christine Price

Mots clés humourous tate brennan embarrassing

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