The day was waning by the time I reached the cabin in the woods, about a mile’s hike from where the trees got too thick to drive any farther. I’d come prepared, climbing the hill and trekking down around the lip of the valley with my trusty worn boots and my pack bundled high on my back. The effort got …
“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 …