“You stole a couch,” I say, “from a strip club.”
“So?”
“So do you know what happens on those couches?”
“Probably the same ooey-gooey shit my brother does on it, but it doesn’t matter. I disinfected it.”
“You disinfected it.”
“Yeah, got a can of Lysol and sprayed the fuck out of the thing.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “I, uh... I’m too tired to think of a response to that.”
“Then come on,” he says, stepping past me. “Let’s go to bed.”
ölecem dflkjld off bu koltuk meselesine diğer kitaptan beri gülüyorum