I always pass out after sex, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that I never got a chance to use the toiletries that Celeste graciously provided. Meanwhile, Celeste always makes sure to remove her makeup and shower before bed, so I’m not surprised to see that her face is bare. She also always sleeps naked—or at least, she did after we started becoming intimate with one another back in college—so that’s not a real surprise, either.

Feeling grimy and icky from last night, I’m thinking of how best to slip out from underneath Celeste to take a shower, when I catch sight of her face. Fast asleep, she looks peaceful in a way she normally doesn’t, appearing softer and younger without her makeup.

A part of me still feels the same serenity I see on her face, but I’m also horrified at how content I feel. Why does this all still feel so nice, eight years after we last had sex? Like I’m supposed to wake up every morning with Celeste?

It’s the hormones, I reason with myself. Women release oxytocin, which makes us want to couple with whomever we sleep with.

And all these hormones would have been perfectly fine if Celeste and I were dating again. But of course, that’s not what’s going on between us at all. Not only am I currently not looking for anything serious, but also, Celeste Min doesn’t “do relationships” anymore.

Plus, she’s going back to LA in a couple of weeks, since we’re already down to our last set of interviews.

I groan, wondering if this is what happened to Gretchen, too. From Celeste’s Instagram, they clearly worked together before they started dating. Or maybe they casually dated while working together. Whatever the case, the end result was the same. Celeste warned her that she didn’t do relationships. Gretchen caught feelings anyway. And Celeste broke her heart.

I can easily see myself falling into that same trap of feelings if I don’t nip it in the bud, right here and right now. I’d rather step on a pile of cat diarrhea than get that same “I don’t do relationships, remember?” talk that Gretchen got from Celeste.

After managing to successfully shimmy out of bed without waking her up, I grab the toiletries from the kitchen counter and hop into the shower.

The water’s freezing cold at first, causing me to yelp out loud. It’s exactly the type of wake-up call I need, though, and I’m finally able to clear my head as I wash off last night’s dried sweat and makeup. And the smell of Celeste on my skin.