#Chapter 36: Getting Steamy in the Kitchen

"It think it's fine, Charles. I would have smelled someone if they were here!" Charles ignored me, sticking his head under my bed and then proceeded to the bathroom. He looked in the bathtub, and even the cupboard where the extra towels were. "Now you're just snooping," I said, laughing at the way he searched every closet and cupboard, like a hound dog looking for clues. "It's important!" he said, trying to keep a serious face as he rifled through my coats in the hallway closet. That's when I realized he was actually stirring up my scent, moving around my things to release it and enjoying surrounding himself with it, as if he were spritzing himself with fragrance. I sat on the couch and watched him, his large, strong form in my house, like a dream from my teenage years. Back then I wouldn't have cared if he was just using me as a scent object. I would have thought it was worth it. Now, however, I had too much at stake. My self-esteem, my reputation, I had learned to s