I glanced at his face briefly. His eyes focused on our hands on my breast.
"Yeah," I acknowledged before returning to my work.
"Short shorts and short sleeves on flannel pjs," he mumbled. "They feel nice."
"Yeah, I love them."
"I like, um, you look, um, they look comfortable."
I nodded and started on his thumb.
For some reason I thought of the lame pickup line, "That outfit would look even better on the floor of my bedroom," but I knew Chris wouldn't even think something like that with anyone, but especially not with his sister.
I got the bandage on Chris's thumb split, then leaned back and stretched my back without releasing his hand.
"You okay, Kitty Kat?"
I smiled at him, and nodded my head.
Sometimes, just sometimes, when he called me that, not just my head, but my head, bell
