I say goodnight to Charlotte and then head to my room, feeling a little unburdened but completely unsure what to expect when I open the door. Will he be asleep on the couch, like a stubborn man? The floor? Or will he be in the shower? When I turn the knob, I have the answer to whether my boss owns anything for lounging around in. He’s in a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt, and he’s stretched out on the bed, and my mouth goes dry.
