I turn and walk off, grabbing my bag as I pass my desk. I can sense his eyes on me, but I don’t look around. I like torturing him subtly; it makes me feel good to know I have a little power over him, too. Probably more than I realize; besides, he can be so commanding sometimes that he deserves it.  

I want to move in with him, but I’m terrified. It’s a huge step for me, depending on someone else: his apartment, his things, his money, his furniture, his way!  

I’ve ...