It sure isn’t, Maureen thought as Dave climbed off her, tossing one leg to her side of the bed. But he had never commented on it before. “I’m sorry. What?” Maureen pushed her sweaty hair out of her eyes. Not her sweat, she thought with a little grimace. She never got around to working up a sweat with Dave. “Love daze, huh? I just said, I don’t think this is going to work out. This thing with us.” Maureen saw his thin lips forming the words, words that looked remarkably like the words she was hearing. She just wasn’t sure she believed her eyes—or her ears. This thing? Was he referring to their two years together, three months of which had been spent crammed into his studio apartment because he was “too busy” for them to look for a place together? Two years of her bringing him lunch when he ran out of cash, writing his résumé when he lost his job recently, and unreciprocated oral sex? “Are you dumping me? In bed? While we’re still naked?” “Come on, you would have wanted one last hurrah,”
