He always felt guilty the morning after those nights; he'd find himself lavishing her with affection after those nights and inwardly cringing when she...laughed about his sudden "amorè." She'd pour his coffee and giggle as his hand not-so-innocently brushed her robe and teased open the satin collar for an early morning peek. She'd flick the dishtowel at him as she wiped toast crumbs from the countertop. And then he loved her all over again.The day they met started out for him like most. Why the fuck didn’t I go to work, she thought. Neither spoke a word into the anxious silence for the next ten minutes. Eddie had returned to his own towel, his feet also planted on the not-long-enough-bench. Because their combined lengths took up most of the bench’s length, less than a foot separated his head from hers. Like Ellen, he lay with his palms cupping his hard-muscled stomach. What would he do, she wondered, if I took off my top? The thought, ridiculous as it was, sent a thrill of. More

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