I pushed him away and landed on my feet. ‘Who are you?!’ I demanded, breathing heavily and feeling vulnerable and slightly desecrated. But he didn...��t answer. He calmly tucked himself back in, grinned at me and then walked out the door. ‘At least tell me your name!’ I yelled as I slid down the wall. My legs felt as though they were made of jelly. But he was gone. I arrived home that evening feeling violated, guilty of betrayal but perversely invigorated. I prepared the evening meal as nothing had. ” “You can put the clothes on the counter without looking.” I’m looking at him too seriously. I’m supposed to flirt here, but all I can manage is, “Put them there. You can do that, right?” “Yeah, that’s fine.” He’s out the door. From his attitude, I’m not sure he’s coming back. I feel my heart fluttering for him, my throat clenching up at the thought of him walking in, trying to be respectful, and me walking out and boldly grabbing at his crotch. But am I brave enough to do that? Maybe I’ll. More

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