Our headlights extended over the dusty flats, a dry, cracked plain where even shrubbery refused to grow. A soft breeze filled the car as he stopped the engine and rolled down the windows. Darkness poured into the cabin as the air settled around us, the desert quickly forgetting our intrusion. “Do you have any more questions?” he asked. I ran …
“You really come prepared,” he said as I stabbed a tent stake into the sand. He loitered in his flip-flops, looking unsure of what to do with himself despite nailing the beach day look. Over his trunks, he wore a crisp white shirt that fluttered in the wind, allowing peekaboo glimpses of his skin, glistening with a hint of sweat …
He followed me up the stairs after I excused myself from the bar. The communication between us was less unspoken signal and more trigger and effect, all of our touch-and-go glances building in anticipation of this opportunity. He must have waited all but thirty seconds before falling on my trail, weaving through the happy hour crowd as I had just …