The voyeur in me wanted to watch her stroke to climax. What if I was wrong, and she was acting privately, believing we were all sleeping. I could ruin...our friendship if I acted too boldly.I wanted further proof we were interacting. I faked a stretch that caused my blanket to fall off the bed and left my sheet at my waist. My face was still hidden from Anita's. I felt as nervous as the first time I ever got laid. I swallowed so loudly I thought it could be heard in the next room.I slowly ran my. I went into the bathroom, gathering washcloths from the sink and shower, opened the hamper. Blue towel. Undies, mine and his. Two suits of scrubs, our substitute for pajamas. Another blue towel. And a brown towel.Okay. That’s different. I don’t – definitely don’t – remember Ed nor I using a brown towel. Odd, too, is that it was stuffed down into the hamper a bit. We usually don’t stuff anything.I pulled the towel out, holding it. The evidence was right there. Dried. I know what a wet spot looks. More

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