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Lindy felt another blush. "Uh, sure. I'll just... wear layers. Okay. I'll be going. To get dressed. Right," and then he scurried off to his room. He didn't want to wear shorts. Where were those good jeans that hugged his ass? Then a nice shirt, like a dress shirt. Or should he wear a low neck and show off his tattoo? No. He'd go with the dress shirt. The top half would just be opened, exposing the wife beater underneath. And a sweater.
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