Iris: You get some credit.
Most of the credit.
Walker: Is it good sore or bad sore?
Iris: There's a good sore?
Walker: Yeah. You feel like you worked hard. Like a badass.
Iris: I do feel like I worked hard. And like everything hurts.
Walker: You need someone to kiss it better?
Iris: I knew this was a booty call.
Walker: It could be. But you know it's the twenty-first century. Women can make the first move.
Iris: Uh-huh.
Walker: You can booty call me.
Iris: I'll consider that.
Walker: Me too. In explicit detail.
Iris: You're dirty.
Walker: You love it.
I do.
Walker: Don't worry. It'll rub off on you.
It already is. I get the double entendre right away. Rub off. Like rub one out. Like he's going to come on me.
Usually, that kind of thing squicks me out.
But the thought of Walker coming on my ass, my back, my stomach, my chest…
Fuck. It's hot in here.
I suck cold brew through my straw. It's mostly ice. It's not enough to cool me
down.
Must change topic.
Iris: Did you talk to your friend?
Walker: A little.
Iris: And?
Walker: He's acting like everything is normal.
Iris: Hmm.
Walker: You're doing it again.