I walk out from the bedroom collapsing the last cardboard box. "You know the good thing about my current vagabond lifestyle?"
Trey turns around on the couch. "Huh, let me think." His eyes travel up and down and make me feel exposed even in the jeans and t-shirt I changed into this morning. "Hobo food is easy to make?"
I toss the flattened box like a Frisbee toward the pile by the kitchen bar and surprisingly it hits the mark even if it lands on the side rather than right on top. "No," I point to the small pile of unpacked boxes, "easy unpacking." The couch sits a foot or so from the wall even though there isn't space for that kind of layout in the small apartment. I stop on the back side of it and lean closer to Trey. "I'm hungry."
"Hmm, me too." He leans closer and one hand cups my che
