“Pretty,” he said. “The wine?” “You.” I was wearing a white T-shirt and striped pajama bottoms with a drawstring waist. My feet were bare and my hair was down and disorderly. “This would be perfect if we were in my apartment and not yours, and you were spending the night,” he said.”

“Pretty,” he said. “The wine?” “You.” I was wearing a white T-shirt and striped pajama bottoms with a drawstring waist. My feet were bare and my hair was down and disorderly. “This would be perfect if we were in my apartment and not yours, and you were spending the night,” he said.”

— Janet Evanovich