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"You asked where I lived," he said.
"Right."
"I believe the standard expression for my situation is 'no fixed address.' Since graduating, I haven't been in one place long enough to even sublet an apartment. My work--legal and otherwise--keeps me on the move. With my extracurricular activities, I'm obviously ill suited for a steady job at a law firm. Instead, I do piecemeal legal work for supernaturals."
"Lawyer to the paranormal."
"Almost as bad as 'superhero,' isn't it? It provides me enough to live on, no more and no less. More importantly, it gives me the opportunity to do what I really want."
"Save the world?"
"Something which I'm sure you know nothing about."
"Hey, I don't want to save the whole world. Just my corner of it."
He laughed and tightened his arms around me. We kissed for a few minutes, then I reluctantly pulled back.
"I want to know more," I said. "About you, about what you do. But I suppose we should get some sleep."
"Probably. If these last two days have been any indication, we'll need our rest." He reached over and retrieved his glasses, then looked at me. "Any chance we can avoid separate sleeping quarters tonight? I know Savannah's presence is a concern--"
"One easily handled by a locking spell or two."
The next morning I awoke to find myself alone. At first I thought Cortez slipped out in the night and returned to the sofa. Which would be a bad sign. But, as I stretched, I noticed his side of the bed was still warm.
I glanced at the clock. Eleven A.M.? I hadn't slept this late since college. No wonder Cortez was up.
I tumbled from bed, still groggy, pulled on my kimono, and headed for the bathroom. The door was ajar, so I gave it a shove and whacked it against Cortez, who was bent over the sink, shaving.
"Sorry," he said.
"For what? Standing near a door?"
A small smile. "For leaving the door open, thereby causing you to believe the room was vacant." He waved to the mirror, which was fogged from his shower. "I opened it for some air. I couldn't find the--"
I flicked a switch outside the door and a whoosh filled the room.
"Ah, the fan," he said.
"Lousy setup," I said. "I'll be in my room. Just knock when you're done."
Before I could leave, he grabbed my arm, tugged me inside, and closed
the door. Then he pulled me against him and lowered his mouth to mine. Well, that certainly alleviated any "morning after" awkwardness.
I kissed him back, wrapping my hands around his neck. Tendrils of damp hair tickled my fingers. The clean tang of soap filled my nose. When my tongue slipped into his mouth, I tasted mint. Toothpaste.
I jerked back and slapped my hand over my mouth. "I have to brush my teeth." As I spun to face the mirror, I caught sight of my hair, which frizzed out in a way that could only be called "witchy." "Shit! My hair!"
Cortez wrapped a handful around his fist and bent to kiss my neck. "I love your hair."
"Which is more than you can say for my breath."
As I reached for the toothpaste, he turned me around.
"Your breath is fine."
Then, as if to prove it, he kissed me again, deeper this time, lifting me up onto the counter and pressing against me. I slid my fingers under his open shirt, to push it off his shoulders, but he caught my hands.
