“Tomorrow night” ends up being early this morning. I spent all yesterday thinking about it and decided we could both use a day away from the city. Once the babysitter arrived, I woke Alana up to mild protest.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. Pack a day bag. Warm weather,” I tell her and leave the room to pack my own bag.

An hour later, we’re at LaGuardia Airport, and soon after that, sitting in first class on a flight to Miami. Spring hasn’t brought much warmth to the city yet, so I thought a day in tropical heat would do us both some good.

“Wow, you don’t do anything half-ass, do you?” Alana feels the cushiony arm rests of the Boeing 757 and accepts the glass of champagne from the airline steward with a big, lofty smile.

“Especially you.” I lean into her shoulder, caressing her arm.

Goose bumps erupt all over them, as she gives me a mock-shocked look. “That’s for freaking sure. I can’t believe I’m on a plane to Florida, Kase. What are we going to do when we get there?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Oh, come on. You probably have a whole PowerPoint planned out with notes in the margins. Everything from cuisine to activities to emergency contact information.” She chuckles and sips her drink.

“I’m serious. I don’t.” I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. “Feels kind of nice, actually. Aside from our hotel, we have the whole day, tonight, and most of tomorrow.”

“Where are we staying? Not that I know anything about Miami.”

“Right on Ocean Drive. South Beach. It’s a warm eighty-five degrees and nothing but sunny skies.”

She’s so quiet, I have to look at her to make sure she’s still breathing. Her eyes are wide with disbelief. “Kase, when you asked me out on a date, I thought you meant like, the MoMA or something. A walk through Central Park.”

“Are you disappointed?” And now I’m wondering if this was too much, too soon. To me, a day’s jaunt to Miami Beach isn’t a big deal, but I can see how it would seem that way to her.

“Are you crazy? No way! This…” She leans back, sighs, and looks at me when I rest my hand on hers. I don’t want to think about what any of this means. I don’t want to overanalyze. I just want to have a good time. It is what it is. “This is awesome.”

“It is,” I agree and within minutes, we’re taxiing down a dirty, half-melted snowy runway, heading for land of sun, surf, and sand.

* * *

Miami Beach in March might be packed with tourists, spring breakers, and locals all out for a romp around the barrier island, but for me and Alana, it’s a day away from reality. I’ve needed this. She’s needed this. We’ve both been under too much stress lately, and nothing says “leave your worries behind” like laying on the sand in Lummus Park, listening to the great Atlantic Ocean swishing against the shore. Drinks in hand, we listen to a local band of steel drums playing something vaguely resembling Beethoven.

“You know what the best part of this is?” I ask Alana, lowering my eyewear to peer at her through the brilliance reflecting off the sand.

“That we’re in freakin’ Miami Beach?” She giggles.

“That you’re in a yellow-and-black bikini.”

She scoffs. “A super-extensive bikini you had to buy for me in a tourist shop because I didn’t own one.” When Alana laughs, there’s this lightness I can’t explain. It’s fun and flirty and reminds me of a little girl whose daddy has just told her she’s the most breathtaking princess in the world. And while I’ve been with women exotic enough to resemble human orchids, Alana is the kind of homegrown sunflower you find in your own backyard.

The big, bright blooming kind you want to stare at all day.

“It was my pleasure, Alana. And if I’m lucky, maybe you’ll let me take it off you later.” It’s the rum floater in my drink talking, but I don’t need any help wanting Alana. Every day, I’m baffled by her. Why does she captivate me so? Aside from being intelligent, sexy as fuck, beautiful, stubborn, and hardworking, that is?

Her hazel eyes capture the sunlight and appear green today. Her desire for me is clear from the way she bites the inside of her lip as she thinks of a witty response. She doesn’t have one, though, and I’m glad. I like rendering her speechless. I like her innocence and lack of flirt game. She’s like no other woman I’ve ever been with. She’s too good for me is what she is.

And holy balls of Babylon, the girl can get freaky.

I. Never. Expected. That.

I’m a big, dumb guy at heart and yeah, I’ll admit it—I want more of that dirty, awesome sex. If that is how she is at age twenty-one, what’s going to happen when Alana unlocks her full potential in her thirties? Or her forties even? She’s going to be one of those full-fledged sexy-as-fuck MILFs. The thought of her being a mother and still retaining her sexuality long after having kids turns me hard right here on the beach.

And because I can’t, or don’t want to, imagine her having anybody’s children but mine, I strain inside my shorts because there’s nothing hotter in this world than a woman who still turns you on after many years, has had your babies, and belongs to you.

Holy shit. I nearly slap myself back to center.

I’ve already lost too much and I can’t imagine the pain I’d feel if I were to ever lose Alana, too. I faced the truth a long time ago, then I faced it again when Evie passed away—I’m a cursed man.

“What are you thinking?” Her voice floats on the breeze and for all its softness, still catches me off guard.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Actually, I do,” she says, shifting in the sand onto her stomach. Her ass is so tight, I could bounce a seashell off of it. “But I know you won’t tell me.”

Good girl. She’s learned and accepted my rule—ask no questions. Don’t get involved. I deflect the attention off me by asking her a few of my own. “Why banking? If your family was in service?”

“That’s why,” she says. “They worked for families all their lives. I swore I wouldn’t go down the same path and banking had some amazing potential.”

“Did you want to be the rich guy for once?” I ask. “It’s not everything it’s cracked up to be, you know.”

“You only say that because you have money, Kase. Why advertising?” She volleys the question back at me.

“Because I’m good at it. Sure, there’s lots of other things I’d love to be doing, but advertising promised me big bucks, and after growing up poor, that’s what I wanted.”

“Wait…” She pulls down her sunglasses and stares at me. “You used to be poor?”

“What did you think, Alana? That I was one of your rich families’ kids? You shouldn’t assume.”

“I didn’t, I just… That’s why you just asked if I wanted to be the rich guy for once?”

“Yep. My mother worked her ass off. Two, three jobs sometimes, all so I could go to college, get a good job. My dad was never in the picture, so she was all I had.” I have to stop talking. I never imagined I’d be mentioning my mom today and can’t bear the pain, even though it’s been ten years since she left this stupid planet.

What good was it to work hard to impress my mother and make her proud when now she wasn’t here to see it? Life is a dumbass bitch sometimes.

“Wow, Kase, I had no idea. Thanks for telling me that. I guess we’re not so different after all, are we? You wanted a better life. I wanted a better life. I had a better life for two seconds.” She scoffs but I know she hates working as a nanny. “Before it was all taken from me.”

“You’ll get it back,” I tell her. “This is just temporary. I know your kind, Alana. Nothing will stop you from getting what you want.” In fact, that’s why we’re lying here together today. Because of her insistence that I share and feel, that I stop pushing her away. “That’s what I really admire about you.”

I was going to say love. It’s what I love about her, but I told her she would never get me to fall in love—because I would never drag her into my world.

* * *

In the evening, we hit the bars and clubs, so different from NYC. Here there’s salsa music, reggaeton, half-naked bodies writhing in the heat, drinks made from mangos, limes, and coconut. There’s long, tanned legs left and right, and someone’s always flashing their cars out on the curb, no matter where we end up. Porsches, Ferraris, Bentleys, you name it.

The music pounds like a heartbeat, urging us closer, as Alana’s pretty arms wrap around my neck, and mine capture her by the waist. Her tits look beautiful in the silvery top she’s wearing, low-cut and natural. There’s little to stop me from sliding the fabric aside and sucking on them right here in the middle of the dance floor. Why not? People around me are drunk as fuck and doing worse, and nobody cares.

Anything goes here.

As her tongue slips into my mouth, darting around to taste and lose herself in the alcohol fog, my hands run up her torso underneath her top, resting at the lower curves of her breasts. My thumbs slide up and caress her nipples which harden under my touch. If I could fuck her in this club, I would. She eyes me with caution but I only smile.

“Guess what I want to do?”

“Visit the old guys playing dominoes in the park again?”

“Close. I want to turn you around and fuck you hard from behind while I play with these nipples.”

“Like this?” Pivoting in place, she grabs my haunches and pushes her ass against me, writhing up against my stiff dick like she owns it. And let me tell you—though no one has ever owned my dick but me—she can have it any time she wants. From now on, no matter what’s going on in our lives, Alana gets a free cock pass. 24-hour, full-access to Kase’s dick, all day, every day.

“Like that,” I say, sucking on her earlobe, pressing a finger against her lips. When her mouth yields easily and we’re three sheets away from fucking in front of every person in this club, I grab her hand, down the rest of my drink, and get the hell out of there.

Each time I look back at her, I catch that Alana smile. I never thought I’d say this, but I love it. It lights up my fucking day. I wish I could see it every day and then I beam when I realize I do. But what about when it’s time for her to go? What if they call her from Lodwick or any other bank she’s applied to and hire her?

I may as well enjoy this evening, because nothing lasts forever. I hope she’s not thinking that she’s breaking through to me, because she’s not. This is as close as we’re ever going to get and I’ll never let her in more than I am right now. I wouldn’t hurt her that way. This night on Miami Beach will soon be a beautiful memory, and I intend to make the most of it.

The moment we arrive back at the hotel, we’re making out in the elevator, making out in the hallway, and practically fucking up against the door. I fumble for the card key, stumble into the modern, sleek hotel room, and pick her up with both arms. It’s the fastest way I can get her to move. And then, setting Alana onto her pretty feet on our balcony overlooking Ocean Drive, I strip her of her glittery top, yank off her tight black pants showing off her bouncy ass, but leave on the four-inch black heels.

“Kase…” she tries protesting.

I shush her, kiss her deeply, then drop to my knees and spread her legs. I eat out her beautiful cunt, shoving my face into its slick wetness, licking that clit, and making it do my bidding. I cover my face in her juices, because I adore this woman. Adore this pussy. I would do anything for Alana, even if it means leaving her.

In my swirling brain fog, I love her while I still have her. In the darkness. In the warmth. In the presence of the great expanse of watery universe before us.