. . big time. What had I done? And how in the hell did I go about undoing it? Because right then . . . well, I’d far surpassed my monthly quota of odd happenings. I stared at Porter, completely at a loss for words. In this case, I suppose there was some comfort in knowing any minute Pino would be up here and Porter would have to leave. What was I talking about? I was going to kick him out now. ‘Well, I’d say hello, but I think that’s something you do when you open the door to a visitor, not open your door to find him already in your apartment . . .’ My feet felt like . . . well, they felt like nothing. Mostly because I had stopped feeling them about five minutes ago. ‘You really should put something on those,’ Jake said. I gave a massive eye roll. ‘Yeah, thanks.’ I opened the hall closet door. The only things inside were galoshes and a pair of the pinkest, most hideous slippers known to man, that also just happened to be the warmest. I put on last year’s gag Christmas gift from my sister one by one, leaning against the wall for support as I did so.
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