As he did, Rachel walked back toward her bedroom. "Give me a minute to put on something a bit less disreputable than these sweats, and I'll join you,"...she said over her shoulder.It was closer to ten minutes before they were both ready to go out. Jordan was in his work clothes, minus the catastrophized jacket. He had rolled up his sleeves so the corresponding destruction of his shirt sleeve was not so obvious. He took his wallet out of the jacket and put it in his front pocket, then distributed. Skirts were better with their elastic waistbands, plus I could buy long skirts for like 13 year olds, and they'd be like mini-skirts for me. That was always cool, except my dad wasn't big on that.Mom did control my wardrobe though, like she'd mentioned during our little talk, and if it was okay with her, my dad would grumble, but not argue about it.And that's the kind of stuff I like to think about when I'm touching myself in my bathtub. Not sexy stuff, not thinking about Mark or Chris. I. More

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