Shit. He still had the bra she’d left behind. What was that all about? Was it some kind of mind-fuck, a manipulation? He smiled in a wry mask: his b...ddy Navidad would have had that bra crusty by now. The first thing Navidad would say about it would be, ‘Dude, you jerk off into it yet? Does it smell like her? You gotta hit that shit!’ He started laughing. Fucking Navidad. And yeah, it smelled like her. He’d folded it and put it in his top drawer without washing it. He’d learned a long time ago. Yes. She was the one. She was the one he had been waiting all his life for. * The weather had, during the course of Sunday, taken an unexpectedly cool turn. They took advantage of the unseasonable chill to light a fire and frolic in front of it. The fire had been lit in the library for hours now and its warmth had permeated every corner. Piles of cushions had been pulled up in front of the fire and a cashmere blanket drawn over the girl curled in the centre of it all, poring over a pile of. More

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