Max, who already had been a little drunk when he arrived, was now on his third beer and was getting a bit emotional. “Why can't girls be more like y...u, Kelly?" he said. “I love you. You're always so good to me.” “I love you too, little brother,” I said. Max began to cry. “Oh, don't cry!” I said, and moved over to the sofa, next to him. “Here, come here!” I took him in my arms and held him, and while he hugged me and sobbed, I kissed his wet face, and stroked his soft hair. Still sobbing, he. Her voice was flat and detached—not high, but at a nice, conversational pitch and tone. She tilted her chair slightly to the right, revealing a long, slender pair of legs, crossed and outstretched to the window looking out to Chicago. Still, I said nothing and a few more seconds passed.Suddenly, she swiveled directly at me and looked me in the eye. She wore a gray jacket over a tight frilled white blouse, which housed a conspicuously large and round pair of breasts that threatened to pop out. A. More

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