"Thank you for taking care of me last night."
Shirley Miller said apologetically, "I overestimated my alcohol tolerance..."
Carson Flores laughed, "People who drink, who hasn't gotten drunk a few times in their life? Sometimes, it's good to get thoroughly drunk. It's tough to keep some things bottled up inside."
Shirley Miller turned to the side, reaching down to the ground to pick up her discarded clothes, leaving Carson Flores with a view of her smooth and flawless back.
"I smell like alcohol; I'm going to take a shower first."
Carson Flores smiled, "Your room card isn't on you, otherwise I wouldn't have brought you back to my room. If you don't mind, just shower here, there's a bathrobe in the closet."
Shirley Miller hummed in response without any coyness, "Okay, the card is in my bag, I forgot to take it when I got out of the car. I'll send a message to Lydia Howell first."
Shirley Miller entered the bathroom, and the sound of water soon followed.
