We've been meeting at his apartment twice a week. Always late at night. Always careful. I park two blocks away and walk. He checks to make sure none of his neighbors are around before letting me in.

It feels like an affair, even though technically he's single and so am I. But the secrecy makes it feel illicit. Forbidden.

Which maybe makes it hotter.

We fuck. A lot. On his couch. In his bed. Once in his kitchen because we couldn't make it to the bedroom.

And we talk. About everything and nothing. He tells me about his ex-wife, about how she cheated, about how he spent two years thinking...