Chapter 7: Three Rules for a Stranger

He came at five past midnight, alone, in his shirtsleeves.

I was sitting on the edge of his desk, in the dark, with the laptop glowing beside me.

The clock had fallen to 8:11:36, and the numbers kept dropping.

Teo shut the study door and turned the lock.

"I'm here," he said. "State your terms."

"Three rules," I said.

"Go on."

"Tonight I'm a stranger. You don't know me. I don't know you."

"That's already true."

"No names. I won't say yours, and you won't say mine."

He watched my mouth when I said it.

"And you don't ask about the past. Not mine, not yours, not what you forgot."

Something moved behind his eyes. I could not tell what.

"Why?" he said.

"Because that's my price."

He took a slow breath. "Agreed."

"Say it."

"No names. No past. No questions."

"Then take off your shirt," I said.

He did it without taking his eyes off me.

He undid the buttons one by one and dropped the shirt on the carpet.

His chest was the same, the long scar under the ribs and the heavy shoulders.

I had put my mouth on every inch of him for six years.

I reached out and flattened my hand on his heart.

It was pounding.

"You're nervous," I said.

"You're the one with the terms."

"Sit."

I pushed him into his own chair.

He sat. I stood between his knees, and I unbuttoned my dress and let it fall.

I wore nothing under it.

His breath left him in a rush.

"Look at me," I said, when his eyes dropped. "Not down. At me."

He looked up.

I climbed onto his lap and took his face in both hands.

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