I was barely drifting off to sleep when Kevin finally emerged from the bathroom.
He was wrapped in my blanket on the top half, still wearing those wet trousers from last night on the bottom.
This ridiculous outfit somehow made him look like a figure straight out of some mythology.
If he didn't have that body, I'd probably have drowned him in the bathtub by now.
Did he really not like me? Was he avoiding s*x with me?
If he hadn't made a move on me in the first place, I would've thought he didn't want to be a jerk. But by now, I was already clear-headed. If he asked for s*x, I wouldn't necessarily refuse.
Yet I couldn't just ask him directly. It would make me seem like some cheap prostitute.
I decided to take a different approach, trying to sound as calm as possible without letting my
