" Trish hastily elaborated. "I'm running out, and you don't have a functioning washer here."Which sadly was true. I had inherited the washer and dryer... but unfortunately, they hadn't been in working order, I had discovered to great consternation, and I had been too broke recently to buy a new one. Hell, a trip to the Laundromat, while mundane and dull, might just be the thing to inject a bit of reality into what had become a whirlwind of changes in my life."Later. Right now, I think I just want. All I want to do is get back to my hotel, clean up and regroup for tomorrow. I plan on commandeering one of the Chinooks to take me back to my hotel since Ben put a fifty caliber hole into the engine on my chopper. I'm finally settled in the Chinook, the pilot fires up the engine, there's a loud bang, the indicator lights on the control panel go fucking crazy and the pilot yells, "Fuck! We need to get out of here now before she blows!"The bastard pilot opens his door and takes off like his ass. She was tired but not sleepy.She came fast and jumped on to me, I had to hold her up. It was an amazing feeling. It’s morning 4 am dead silence in the whole block and 2 of us were having our own time. There was a bit of light in the hall from far street lights. I closed the door. We decided to sleep on the floor hugging each other.I cleared the chair and table. She got drapes from the shelf. I slept on the floor, she just leaned on my chest relaxing muscles. Its 4.20 am, our shift starts again. “Strong young man,” I heard Mrs Spencer murmur. When she said it, it was like I wasn’t there. She was talking to herself. Lost in her own little reverie.“Your husband,” I said, blurting it out.Mrs Spencer’s focus returned to the present. She looked at me, eyebrows arched. “What about him?”“He wouldn’t like it.”Mrs Spencer rolled her eyes. “He won’t know anything about. Besides,” she added with a dismissive wave of her hand, “I’m only looking.”When she returned her hand to my chest, palm sliding.