I ration my visits into Nicole’s house. I let myself go in there to use her bathroom and only pause in the kitchen to get warm for five minutes. Anything past that, and I start fantasizing about her. The sight of her running shoes by the back door gets me hard.

Her briefcase propped against the end table by the front door gets me hard.

Every single thing in this house either reminds me of her smart-ass mouth or her incredible competence at everything apart from ...