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I should have predicted he would skip out, but JD was a big boy, and there’s no way I could have stopped him anyway. This time. Next time, my friend, we’d see who was the wily one. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and regroup. Or I guess just group, since it was first thing in the morning. The man was a damn fine French-braider, I had to give him that, as I untucked my hair and shook it out. My little travel toothbrush was upright in a glass, wet. Had the man seriously used my toothbrush? Eww. I found myself fantasizing about kicking his ass again.
After rinsing my toothbrush for a full minute, I brushed my own teeth and put on real clothes. Real clothes in the not-jammies sense, not real clothes in the remotely professional sense. I was back in my board shorts and slightly damp
