Speaking of which, a certain piece of hot, hard flesh pressed into my hip.

Last night was the first time I hadn’t showered shortly after sex. I always had done so immediately after my date nights, even with Colin. Despite the fact that he’d used a condom, I felt surprisingly sticky—everywhere. I supposed it should be hot, the remains of sex, the morning after, but it was…awkward.

Naked, I slipped from Colin’s unconscious grip.

The bathroom held only the basics: a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo-conditioner, shaving supplies. The shiny surfaces shone, too clean for a bachelor’s place. Had he just moved in? That would explain the minimalist but catalog-perfect furniture and lack of decor. I made a mental note to ask him and decided he wouldn’t mind if I took a shower.

I stood under the spray and flipped the tap all the way to hot, relishing the biting cold that steeped into a blissful scald. As I lathered myself using the minty bar of soap, I heard a snick from the door and Colin’s voice. “Excuse me.” Excuse what? I peered around the shower curtain to see two pale, tight ass cheeks, then snatched the curtain back in place with a squeak.

Damn.

He was using the potty. No, the toilet. Fuck! I was an adult. It was called a toilet.

“You okay?” He sounded amused.

“I’m fine.” I clutched the soap, which slipped from my hands onto the tub with a thud.

“Sure?”

I picked up the soap. “Never better.”

“Can you move today?”

I dropped the soap again. “Fuck!”

“What?”

“Nothing. Ahhh, moving. Hmm…” To be honest I hadn’t been entirely sure we were doing that, or whether the whole thing had been some weird date dream. And I really hadn’t expected it so soon, but leave it to Colin to be expedient.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Can we talk about it later? I have to go in to work this afternoon.”

“About that,” he said.

I didn’t like his tone. I poked my head out of the shower. Colin leaned against the bathroom counter, somehow looking not at all silly while totally naked—and hard.

“I was thinking you could quit,” he said.

I gaped but managed to eke out a, “What?”

He shrugged in the face of my shock. “It sucks. The pay is shit, and so are the hours. You don’t even like it.”

He added that as an afterthought, but of course, I didn’t like it. Damn him for knowing that. “Wait a minute. How do you know how much I make?”

His eyes flickered. “You work shifts in a low-end bakery. How much can it pay? Besides, I’m in the industry.”

That made sense, I supposed. But still… “It would take time to find a better job. How would I pay my share?”