If Porter crawled into bed with me, I wouldn’t flee the scene right away. I probably wouldn’t even kick him out. I might kick him in the gonads and then rub my cheek against his chest because that’s the kind of girl I am. Beat them and then treat them.

I had a chance to lay it all out on the table, and I didn't. But that's the problem with shame. Shame doesn't like company. Shame's not something that likes to be shared.