Changing the locks is just basic, right?
York asked, "Do you do this for everyone, or is it just me?"
"Of course not everyone. Like my mom and Anne, every time I change the lock, I text them the new code. And after they visit, I don't change it. Why do you ask?"
"So, why do you have to change it after I find out?"
Leda gave him a look that screamed, "Are you kidding me?" and retorted, "Who are you to me? Why wouldn’t I change it? Are we close or something?"
York was momentarily lost for words, then asked, "What about other guys? If they knew your home code..."
"I'd change it in a second," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
York didn't know whether to feel relieved or dismayed.
Relieved because this woman wasn’t totally naive; she kept her guard up with men, understanding the importance of boundaries.
Dismayed because, to her, he was no different from any other guy who needed to be kept at arm's length.
Leda asked, "Did you need something?"
York glanced around the room, saying, "It's boiling outside."
"And?" Leda pressed.
"Can I come in and then talk?"
Leda stepped aside, letting him in.
York walked in with a grin, slipping into house shoes as if he owned the place, and made a beeline for the living room where he plopped down on the sofa.
Anyone would think he lived here.
Leda rolled her eyes. "Spit it out, I'm busy."
York scoffed, "Busy? Busy setting up a date to chase away the summer boredom, or enjoying a lazy afternoon?"
"Seriously?" Leda's eyes widened in disbelief. "Just get to the point, why bring up my social media posts?"
And he read them out loud. How embarrassing!
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