“I do so,” I say. Wow, that sounded lame. And not like the truth at all. I pick up my bag and go to the other side of the bed as my face burns. I open the bag and begin rifling through it, trying to see if there is a chastity belt and a Bible somewhere inside, because apparently I’ve changed my name to Prudence McVanilla Prude.

“Is that what the kids call it these days?”

“I’m hip,” I tell him. “I’m down with it.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize probably no one on the earth says they’re hip and down with it anymore. My life could use a pause button, a rewind button, and most likely a volume control.

There’s a rustling of clothes, and I look up right at the exact moment I’m pretty sure that God and Jesus decide I’m a lost cause and forsake my mortal soul. That’s the only explanation for what’s happening right in front of me.

Dominic is lifting his shirt up and over his head, and while I know it’s physically impossible, I’m convinced he is moving in slow motion and that his torso goes on for miles. Life becomes positively unfair when I see the bulky muscles of his chest covered in a smattering of dark hair. His arms catch in the shirt, and the collar is on his chin, and I do believe I am three point six seconds away from tackling him and motorboating his chest.

Luckily, I have a modicum of self-control left (because I obviously don’t feel that way about him anymore), so I’m able to look up and away before he catches me ogling him like he’s a slab of beef on display.

But it’s escaped my mind (so many things have, it seems) that the ceiling is covered in mirrors, so as soon as I look up, I’m blessed (cursed!) with a completely different view of the heterosexual striptease happening right in front of me. (How long does it take for someone to take off their shirt? I want to scream at him.) Not only can I see him from the top down, I can see the curve of his back and ass and this is exactly what Kori planned, that foul temptress, that evil bitch of a supervillain! This was the exact moment she knew would happen, and how did she get Dominic to play along? What did she promise him? Because she’s obviously promised him something, because no normal person would still be trying to take their shirt off after what has had to have been at least six hours and. That. Ass.

“You okay?” he asks me, his shirt finally off.

“Oh, sure!” I cry. “Everything’s great!”

“You’re breathing funny.”

Calm down. This is what Kori wants. It’s all part of her evil plan. Just calm down and talk about the weather. “Why are you naked!” I screech at him. That’s not weather talk!

“What?” He looks down at himself, and for some reason, I’m relieved his nipples are even with each other. Then I realize I’m staring at his nipples and look at a convenient spot on the wall just over his shoulder. “I’m not naked.”