Pete leaned in to Devon with puckered lips, pecking him on the cheek, his mouth wandering to Devon’s mouth—smooch, smooch—but Devon held him off with a hand to his chest.
The architecture of Pete’s bare muscular chest glinted with sweat and rain. His hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. He wrapped an arm over Devon’s shoulder, said something that made Devon laugh. The two of them headed to the main doors.
Devon turned and waved at me to join them.
I checked my half-assed parking in the rearview mirror, the back wheels sandwiched haphazardly between the two white lines. I turned the ignition, put the car in reverse, and made the best of my clumsy condition. Shrugging, I turned off the car, sighed, and swung the door open.
A warm rain fell from a churning, black sky. I ran thirty feet to the front door, covering my head with both hands.