Around five, I peeled myself away from a dead-to-the-world Judah, scooped up my clothes, and padded silently to the bathroom to clean up. I still had to work tonight, but I was never going to get even a few minutes of sleep in someone else’s apartment, so I needed to get back to my place before rush hour started getting insane.
As I emerged from the bathroom, however, I paused. After everything, I hated the thought of sneaking out without even leaving a note, but I had no idea what I would say. “Thanks for the f**k” would be too flip, and anything else might be too trite.
The idea came when I heard him roll over. I’d promised him a cooking lesson, even if that really had been a euphemism for s*x. One way or another, I’d give him one.
His refrigerator was as pathetic as he’d claimed, lim
