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My wife came out of the bathroom after her shower, still dripping, steam rolling out behind her like she was stepping out of a sauna commercial. She walked straight into the bedroom—completely stark naked.
She stopped in front of the window, glanced at the open curtains, and immediately spun toward me.
“Babe,” she said, hands on her hips, “close the curtains. I don’t want the neighbors to see me like this.”
I leaned back against the headboard, smirking. “Trust me, if the neighbors catch a glimpse of you naked, they’ll be the ones closing their damn curtains.”
She blinked, then tried to glare, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her. Within seconds, she was laughing, tossing a pillow at my head.
“Smartass,” she said, climbing onto the bed.
I ducked the pillow and grinned. “Hey, I’m just looking out for neighborhood safety. Can’t have car accidents piling up outside because of you.”
That earned me another pillow.