Brandon Poured Cold Beer Over Sarah Before He Learned About Her Athletic Past
I picked up the platter.
The corn was still steaming under a clean dish towel.
I walked toward the grill.
At twenty to two, I set the platter beside the tongs.
“Not there,” Brandon said.
“There.”
He pointed at the far end of the grill shelf.
When I turned to move it, he lifted his cup over my head and tipped it.
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