EIGHTEEN-1
EIGHTEEN –––––––– * * * * “I’ll let you fold his laundry, if it will make you feel better,” Bess said, having just brought a hamper into the kitchen from one of the back rooms. Putting it on the opposite side of the island where Devon sat, she opened it. Devon smiled and rolled her eyes away from the woman, whose offer hadn’t been serious. After tapping her pencil on her lip, she carried on writing. “You’ve been scribbling in that since the minute he left,” Bess said. “What’s so important for you to get down on paper?” If she’d been close enough, she would’ve given Devon a nudge because her lips curled in a saucy smirk. “Or are you writing raunchy love letters?” “Not love letters,” Devon said, considering how Zave would react if she did write to him that way. “I’m trying to get it al
- Writer
