He scrutinized me with one eye. Both had heavy bags under them. He hadn't been sleeping. "That's a catty thing to say, Cat."

"Don't call me Cat," I said.

He shrugged, toweling off his shoulders.

I squeezed my arms against my breasts and shifted my weight. Without giving any sign, he grabbed me by the arms and kissed me roughly on the mouth. I screamed - I actually screamed - and pulled away from him; I thought I'd have to slap him. He went back to toweling his back as if it was all one motion.

"Does that make you feel better?" he said.

"Why did you do that?"

"Is...