About twenty minutes later we pulled into the parking lot at his townhouse in North Quincy. I shouldered my backpack and followed him inside. It wasn’t huge, but by the light of the full moon, I could see that it had a nice view of the bay. He had furnished it with a modern style, very different than Maya’s home. This was no typical bachelor pad for someone in their late twenties.
I loved the abstract art he had hung throughout the living and dining room areas. Many of the pieces had a very sensual quality that gave hints of bodies intertwined. I slipped off my shoes, sensing from the absolute spotlessness of the living space that my dusty trainers would not be appreciated. I also set my backpack down next to my shoes since it probably carried as much dust as my shoes. I said a quick than
