“Nine minutes left,” I murmured, Cal’s body still on mine, my legs around his waist, arms wrapped around his back. I was stroking his shoulder blades, his lips in my hair.

Everything was bliss.

“Do you think anyone noticed?” He asked.

I laughed. “Noticed a car in the parking lot rocking like two people were fucking the shit out of each other in it? Yes. I do think a few people probably noticed.”

He moved his head to look at me, grinning. “Good,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose, wiping away a wayward tear.

“I feel so embarrassed that I cried,” I whispered. I’d never cried during sex before. And definitely not after only the second time with someone.

“Please don’t,” Cal said kindly. “Was it because…I mean, do you know why you cried?”

“I just felt so connected to you all day,” I said honestly. “And both of my orgasms were kind of world-shattering. I don’t…” I stopped for a moment, collecting my thoughts. “Modeling doesn’t leave a lot of time for relationships. And the brief ones I had were more,” I bit my lip, “opportunistic I guess. More about image or money. We never talked about anything real. And we certainly didn’t fuck like this.” I shifted beneath him, moving my weight so I could press more tightly against him. “I used to fantasize about sex like this,” I said, and Cal’s gaze darkened.

“Me too,” he said. “Only I used to think it was wrong.”

“Why?”

“I’m the nice guy, Lu,” Cal said, smiling down at me. “I guess I thought nice guys didn’t fuck like this. Treat women like this, like…like an object to be used.”

I placed my palm against his face. “I don’t feel used. I feel alive.” He kissed my fingers, threading them together with his. “I think that’s why I cried,” I said, feeling myself break open in front of Calvin. Feeling this moment lodge itself in the chambers of my heart.

“I feel alive too,” he whispered, eyes searching mine. “Thank you. For letting me…”

And that’s when we heard Josie’s voice, loud across the parking lot. “OH HI RAY,” she yelled, and Cal and I jumped up like a couple teenagers caught smoking behind the bleachers. “WAIT DON’T GO OVER THERE. I THINK I SEE WHALES.”

“Josie can’t act for shit,” Cal said and I started laughing uncontrollably, yanking my underwear from under Cal’s leg. He joined in, pulling on his jeans and almost kicking me in the face.

“Watch it, lover boy,” I said, kissing his cheek as I handed him his shirt. The shirt he’d shoved into my mouth to quiet my screams. “Sorry I got spit all over this.”

“Ah, my favorite shirt from high school.”

“That’s from high school?”

He looked down, pointing at The X-Files logo. “Oh yeah. This shirt got me all the girls. High school chicks dig guys who are into sci-fi.”

“I’m sure,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You know, I would have had a crush on you if we were in high school.”

Cal laughed so hard I thought he’d fall out of the car.

“You? No way in hell,” he said, pulling up his zipper and finding his left sock.

“Why not? I think you’re totally cute,” I said, blushing a little, even though not ten minutes earlier I was begging him to fuck me.

His lips quirked up. “Really?” he asked and I nodded. “I would have thought you were cute in high school too. I had a thing for nerds, especially bookworms.”

Cal looked at me in amazement, drinking me in. “We would have caused quite the stir, Lucia Bell.”

“Hey, we would have been Prom King and Queen.” I paused. “If I had gone to prom.”

“That’s right, I forgot you missed it,” he said. “Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much.

“I wish I’d gone though,” I said softly. “I remember I had an event that night, runway, in New York City. I spent the entire time wishing I was putting a corsage on my date’s lapel. And then feeling equally as embarrassed that I cared about that kind of thing. Everyone around me was so much older, so much more mature. If I’d told them I was missing my prom that night, they would have laughed at me.”

We were out of the car now and Calvin shyly took my hand. I smiled at him.

“Okay, then,” he said, “if we’d gone to prom together, what kind of dress would you have worn?”

I sighed. “Princess-style. Full skirt, corset top. Curls and taffeta just everywhere,” I said, laughing. “And you would have worn a powder-blue suit.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said firmly, seeing it in my mind. “You would have tried to, you know, dirty dance on me, but I wouldn’t have let you.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” I said, fluttering a hand to my chest, “I’m trying to keep my virtue here, Cal.” We were nearing the restaurant and I reluctantly let go of Calvin’s hand. I leaned over to whisper in his ear: “But I would have let you deflower me under the bleachers.”

And then I planted a kiss on his lips and traipsed back inside.

Barely able to stand, a twinge of soreness between my legs I would remain aware of for the rest of the day, and every time I’d think of the car, and what had happened there, I’d grow so flushed even Ray would notice.

“Focus, Lu. Where’s your head at?” he had to say to me multiple times, but I didn’t care.

Cal left after that, back to the store, but his collection of Mary Oliver poems stayed on the bar. Hours went by, and at the end of the shoot, drained and exhausted, I grabbed the slender paperback. Flipped through it to find a note to me, from Calvin, bookmarked in the middle.

Come watch the sunrise from my patio tomorrow. -Cal

My heart tripped over itself, and I smiled so brightly my cheeks hurt.

◊