Andrew said, “You two make a cute couple.”
“We’re not,” I countered and reminded him that Just had a boyfriend.
“Too bad, you’re both adorable together,” Andrew said, stood, and exited the dining room in search of his bed, future husband, and pinkdreams, whatever they queerly entailed.
Just and I left the main house and grabbed our overnight bags from the Frontier. Then we giggled like little boys as we zigzagged over the cobblestone walkway to the dwarf-size cottage. Inebriated, side-by-side, we held hands in the warm and soothing night like lovers, really having no idea exactly what we were doing.
Once we were inside the cottage, an area of four hundred square feet that consisted of an undersized bedroom, a tiny kitchen, bathroom, and sitting area, we stripped out of our clothes at the base of the single bed.