Chapter 39: What I Liked About Men
That night, I slept with Clay Johnsen. He arrived after midnight, smelling like whiskey. The guy knew how to handle his drink and wasn’t inebriated, but he did have a nice buzz going on. He made his way into the Tudor through an open window on the first floor and quietly walked upstairs and inside my bedroom.
“You still need a security system, Paul. When are you going to break down and buy one?”
“How’d you get in here?” I asked from the bed, naked because it was hot and sticky out. A heatwave had taken over western Pennsylvania and decided to hang around for four days.
“The hallway window downstairs. You need to keep it closed and locked.”
“s**t,” I whispered.
Everything he said made sense. I should have closed and locked the window, but never did.
