He switches tactics, dropping the cool-guy act. “Please? I love you!”
But she’s firm. “No way. It’s too risky.”
He keeps begging. She keeps refusing, until—bam—the hallway light flicks on.
Her little sister, eyes half-closed, appears at the top of the stairs.
“Dad says you can go ahead and do it… or Mom will. Or, Dad can come down and handle it himself.”
Then she yawns and adds, “But tell your boyfriend to stop leaning on the intercom!”
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