I stepped out from my apartment and walked barefoot to the the stairwell landing where Jim was reading Annie Proulx halfheartedly and tapping his feet. On tipped toes, I rubbed his stubbled head and covered his eyes.
He turned his face to mine and asked if I meant basketball or real doctor when I called him Doctor J during sex last night. I paused, pinching my lip and thought about him fat fingering the hook on my bra for a full minute before I rescued him from his covert fumblings.
He shook his head and returned to his book.
"I'll get my shoes"