“We skipped dinner, didn’t we?” I say.
“Unless you count the fruit garnish on the Tequila Sunrises.”
I tap her leg. “Come on. Let’s see what we’ve got in terms of sustenance.”
I walk down the hall. Nake
d. I happen to like being bare a*s. It feels good, natural. Sure I live on a busy city street and we don’t have curtains, but if people want to look up at my window, might as well give them something to look at.
Sofia follows, my blanket wrapped around her shoulders—I assume for warmth. We left modesty in the dust a ways back—around the first time she played jockey on my face.
She sits at the kitchen table while I get a bowl from the fridge and put it in the microwave to heat. I set two plates on the table, then two glasses of cold water. I feel Sofia’s undivided attention follow me a
