I got up from his desk and put on my clothes and clipped my hair back. I gulped down half the bottle of Evian, then gave it to him. He took a big swallow, then closed his eyes. He was drenched with perspiration. He didn’t look well at all. I felt his forehead. “You’re very hot.”

“It’s stuffy in here.”

“You’ve got a fever, Chris.”

“Any wonder after the calisthenics you put me through.”

“I’m concerned. Do you have a doctor I can talk to? You need Keflex.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Are you taking it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It upsets my stomach.”

“Christopher—”

“I’ll take it.” He finished up the bottle of water. “I’m probably just dehydrated. Stop nagging me.”

“I care.” I sat in his lap. “Please?”

“Yes, I will take Keflex.” He nibbled my upper lip, then kissed me. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

We began to kiss. Then he broke away.

“So who are you dating?” he asked me.

“No one.”

“Don’t lie to me, angel. Who are you dati—”

“No one,”

I insisted.

He pulled out a nutrition bar from a file cabinet, ate half, then offered it to me. I shook my head, so he finished it.

“Not dating anyone?”

“No, I am not dating anyone.”

“Then why’d you go to the Hilton with your classmate? What was his name? Michael Bonocelli? Did I pronounce it right?”

His eyes were dead, just waiting to pounce. I said, “Your spy wasn’t thorough. If he had been more watchful, he would have seen me walk out as well as walk in.”

His face told me he was unconvinced.

“They have a very good Italian restaurant, Chris. When Mike invited me to go to dinner, I had no idea he meant room service.”

“You still went out with him.”

“We were working on a paper together—‘The Implications of Iatrogenic Causes in Radiation Deaths of Stage-Three Breast Cancer Patients’—a subject that interests me since both of our mothers died from the disease. Thank God we had a son. The lead professor’s name is Doctor Edwin Alvary. Mike offered me a dinner meeting, and I took him up on it. Sue me. I get tired of mac and cheese or peanut butter every night.”

I pushed his face away from mine.

“I don’t date, Chris. When would I have time? Besides, the last thing I want is a parade of men going in and out of the apartment. Gabe is everything to me. He is not going to grow up with a slut for a mother.”

“You wouldn’t be a slut if you had a toss now and then.”

“But I don’t! You know that cause you’re watching me all the time. I only sleep with you, and that’s different because you’re Gabe’s father. In fact, you’re the only guy I’ve ever been with, period! For twenty-four years old, that is truly pathetic!”

“Not to me. I still get this incredible jolt every time I lay you down and spread your legs.”

Again I pushed him away. “Stop being crude.”