“What were you doing?” I ask. “Rearranging the furniture for better sex feng shui?” “I hid your shoes,” he says and starts to kiss me, but I rear back. “What the fuck?” “I hid your shoes,” he repeats patiently and tries to kiss me again. “Why?” “If you don’t have your shoes, you can’t run out on me in the middle of the night,” he says.
