“Aren’t you a guy?” I asked her, half curious, half trying to piss her off.
She didn’t answer my question. “I promise I’ll return it. Girl code.”
“You’re a man.”
“Right now I’m a woman. Here,” she said, digging in a pocket of her jeans and pulling out a man’s wallet. She removed the driver’s license and showed me the picture and the address. “See? I live in the city. I should probably call a Lyft or Uber. I should have worn a jacket last night, but it was so warm out.”
I grabbed the ID away from her. Michael Campbell. The picture was striking. It was the man I f****d last night. I recognized the brilliant blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair. I held the picture up where I could easily compare it next to Michelle’s face. It was the same face, only more feminine.
I glanced at the height. Fi
