Ouch. Paul used to be unable to keep his hands off me. It didn’t matter if he’d had too much to drink, pulled an all-nighter at the office, or just gotten off a red-eye. I roll onto my side and pinch the extra flab around my waist. I think about Melody’s flat abs and her urging me to shimmy into a tight pair of jeans. Within minutes, Paul is splayed on his back, snoring.
