“You cold?” he asked.
“Not at all. What’s on the top floor?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Be patient. I’m about to show you.” He laughed.
“Yes, but you’re being slow about it,” she joshed. “You know you’re going to have to let go of my hand in order for me to walk up the stairs.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, breathing in his manly scent mixed with what may have been Irish Spring soap. Nevealise was proved right when they couldn’t walk side by side up the steps. Jarred quickly remedied the situation by taking hold of her opposite hand. She had to walk slightly behind him, but not much.
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