I had to call in sick this morning. I had no other option.
On Tuesday, H-- and I went for drinks after work. Drinks led to dinner and drinks. Dinner and drinks led to dancing and drinks. Dancing and drinks led to passion in the bathhouse by the beach.
There is something exhilarating about sneaking into a bathhouse in the dead of winter. Another way to put that, regrettably, is breaking into a bathhouse in the dead of winter. Also regrettable? A panicked exit and leaving one of my black work shoes behind.
We left in a hurry because we thought we heard someone coming in through the front door. It was probably a rat. Still, we didn’t dare go back for my shoe. By the time we sorted out all of our theories and i...
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