I stand frozen in place, staring down at the towel, which is pooled at my ankles. Seconds turn into minutes, and I'm just staring at the towel. I can't believe I'm standing naked in my bathroom with Dirk Adams looking at me.

I'm naked. I'm mortified. I urge myself to bend down and get the towel, but I've forgotten how to move my limbs. I've got some kind of disconnect happening between my brain and my limbs.

"Would you like me to get that?" he asks.

I shut my ...