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“Were you worried about me, Porter?”

“Kane.” He corrected. Turning and heading into his apartment.

“Were you?” I persisted.

“Yes.” He said flatly. “I don’t know many women, but I worry about the ones I do.”

“That could be considered rather sexist.”

“That I want to make sure you’re safe?” He glanced over his shoulder.

“That you think I can’t keep myself safe.”

“When the hell did I say that?” He whirled around. “I don’t think that. You’re a very capable woman. But you spend all your time looking after your mother. Who looks after you?”

That cut me to the quick.

“I…”

“Just let me know you’re okay next time, alright?” He said a bit impatiently.

“Okay…”

“I have to get ready for work.” He headed for his room to change.

I carried in my towels and washcloths to set them on the side table.

***

In no time he was out in those same dark clothes, except tonight he wore the button up open over a t-shirt that had block white lettering saying Security across the back.

He looked at the stacks of towel
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