Once the storm died down and the mayor publicly announced that road travel was safe again, Thomas drove Cheri home. It was perfect timing, because she sensed they’d somehow had their fill of each other—for now. After two nights, a day, and one morning with the practical stranger, she returned home feeling as if she’d known Thomas for her entire lifetime.

She watched out the window as he drove her home and realized she lived less than a mile from him. “I probably could have walked to save you this headache,” she remarked, noticing that navigating through all the street closures was tricky.

“Walked?” he said, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, you know, putting one foot in front of the other, till you’re moving forward. You learned that as a toddler, right?” she joked.

“I’d never let you walk in this mess. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me for one thing, and for another, it’s not safe to hoof it through this neighborhood alone,” he said, shaking his head.

“It’s not that bad. I even jog here sometimes. It really is a beautiful city, Thomas. Once the storm passes, the temperature will be perfect out here,” she argued. “In fact, I may go for a jog when I get home.”

Thomas eyeballed her skeptically. “You’re going out for a run? Not enough exercise this past weekend?” he asked, arching an eyebrow again.

Cheri could only blush in response, then let herself lean into his hard, warm frame for a cuddle. “Maybe a jog to loosen the muscles.”

“You need a big dog,” he continued. “I mean it, broad daylight or not.”

“I’m fine,” she said. He was quite protective, wasn’t he?

“May I remind you of how we met?” he asked. “Also, you said yourself that there are new robberies every day.”

“Touché,” she replied.

“Just speakin’ the truth,” he said. “Honesty’s the best policy, as we’ve already established.

“Yeah,” she said. As she continued lounging against him, Cheri studied the dashboard of Thomas’s big, black, shiny truck, full of high-tech add-ons and buttons. It was way too clean and pristine to be a work truck, and he barely used it, since she always saw him taking public transportation. Once again, she wondered what he did for a living, but she didn’t feel entitled to ask. Back at his house, she had thumbed through his mail while he was in the bathroom; she told herself it wasn’t snooping since he’d knowingly left it out in the open for wandering eyes to see. She learned that his last name was Graham, but that was all the investigating she did; she didn’t want to get caught, and she did feel a bit guilty for digging into his personal business.

“This thing is like a jet plane with all these knobs and gauges,” she remarked. “It’s so clean, too, like it just came out of a showroom,” she fished.

“I just had it detailed. I drive it mostly on weekends.”

“Not to work?” she asked, more clandestine prying.

“No,” he answered with a laugh, as if she had to be joking. “They don’t allow trucks on the metro tracks.”

“What do you do for a living?” she finally blurted, tired of the cat-and-mouse games.

After two incredible days of intimacy, she was sure they were far past the none-of-your-business stage, but she quickly realized she was wrong about that. The elusive Mr. Graham cut his eyes at her. He didn’t want to play twenty questions with her.

His silence was a loud and clear announcement that their weekend wasn’t the start of anything, and that was like a punch in Cheri’s gut. I was just a hookup to him, a fucking booty call, like whoever owns that damn mascara in his bathroom drawer. After all the amazing good feelings he’d helped her to feel, Cheri now ached. Hadn’t I been asking him for the same thing, though? Every muscle in her body tensed, and she wanted to open his truck door and jump out. Thankfully, they were almost to her place, and the rest of the route was free of roadblocks and detours. It would be a clear shot to her door, and it would all be over.

He pulled up in front of her row-house, parked, and pulled out his phone. “May I have your number?” he asked politely.

“Sure,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. As she programmed his digits into her phone, it occurred to her to ask his last name, just to cover her tracks. The fact that he so willingly gave it to her made her feel better, and she hoped she’d just gotten herself all worked up over nothing, which was something she tended to do.

He got out of the truck, walked around the side, and opened the door for her. “Here ya go,” he said. “Home sweet home.”

She slid down the side of the seat in an effort to jump down from the tall vehicle, but he hoisted her in his powerful hands and lowered her to the asphalt.

“Probably should get some pull-down stairs, huh?” he said with a wink. “For you folks who are… vertically challenged.”

She laughed. “Thanks, Thomas. This was, uh, nice,” She had no idea what to say after a weekend of what they’d just done.

“It was,” he said softly, then walked her to the front door where he lowered his mouth to kiss her goodbye.

Cheri thought their magical chance weekend couldn’t have ended more perfectly, but she was wrong. The flicker of fear she had felt a moment prior was about to prove itself true.

Thomas lingered for a moment after their kiss broke, as if searching for the right words. “So, listen…” he began tensely.

A knot formed in Cheri’s stomach as she noticed the shift in his tone and an odd look in his eyes.

“I had a remarkable weekend with you,” he said. “You’re an amazing woman.”

“Thank you,” she replied with some trepidation.

“I’m not much on relationships or dating or any of that stuff,” he confessed. “I mean, it was awesome, but…”

“You already said that,” Cheri reminded him bitingly.

“I know. I just wanna be clear. I’m not sure if there can be anything more, Cheri.”

“Thomas,” she said, putting her best face on, “you took the words right out of my mouth.”

He stared at her, his face twisted in confusion. “I did?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, okay then,” he said and hesitated, as if not sure he should leave now or wait.

“Let me ask you something, Thomas,” she continued, unable to contain her anger. “Why did you just ask me for my number?”

He hesitated, then offered, “Because we never know when it might rain again.” He then took a couple steps back toward his truck and turned to look over his shoulder. “Text me and let me know how court goes, would ya?” he asked.

Only if you go fuck yourself, she wanted to say, but instead she stood stoically at the door, crossing her arms and holding her spiteful tongue. She’d asked for this as much as he had. Him burning her was as much her fault as his. The realization didn’t make the hurt any less sharp.

“Bye now,” he said, getting the message of her silent treatment loud and clear, then hurrying down the sidewalk as she walked inside and slammed the door.