His first stop was the bathroom—use the toilet, splash cold water on his face, brush his teeth, run a hand through his hair, strip down to his tighty whities, and he was ready for bed. Another splash of water, this one on his neck and chest, and he dried his face on a towel that smelled faintly of funk. Time to do the laundry, he thought, balling his discarded clothing into the towel and shoving everything into his hamper. He’d bother with it tomorrow. Maybe he’d even convince Jill to sit with him at the complex’s laundromat. It was just far enough away from his apartment that he couldn’t access his internet while waiting for his clothes, so he’d be bored if he had to do his wash by himself.
Or maybe you know who will be there, he thought. A faint smile tugged at his lips. He needed a bet
