..She looked at him again, this time with eyes narrowed. "You don't go clubbing, do you?" It wasn't really a question."I've been," Alex said a little ...efensively."Nevermind, I hate clubs anyway." She crossed her arms and stared at the floor.Alex felt awkward. What was he supposed to do? Make suggestions? Ask her about her problems? Make small talk? Shut up and drive? Did she feel obligated to let him give her a ride, as thanks? That sounded backwards, and yet it made sense in a way. Was he part. He smelled of sweat, spackle, pine tar, and cheap paint. She focused in on his concerned expression and dignified lips, the kind she knew would only kiss with meaning. "Moira? You took quite a spill there. Are you alright?" he was coming in clearly. "Yes, I... I'm alright." She tried to sit up and noticed he had not closed her robe around her, which was thoroughly soaked and clinging to her skin like sweaty sheets after making love. "Don't try to sit up sweetie, just lay there." His. More

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