“Well that’s a shame,” I say, shuffling the deck of cards on top of the bedspread.

“Why’s that,” he asks, rubbing his hands together. “Don’t tell me you suck at Go Fish.”

“Nope. I was going to suggest Strip Poker. But now I’m excited about Go Fish.”

He tightens his jaw, grinning. “Oh, you little tease.” He swipes the cards off the bed, knocks the empty plates to the carpet and lunges towards me.

I squeal, even though he’s doing exactly what I need him to do. This quiet tension that’s been building inside of me since last night needs to be released, transformed, and he is surely the most adept, sexiest alchemist alive. He scoops me up in his arms and carries me…to the dresser across the room. Oh God yes. The one piece of furniture in this room we haven’t done it on yet.

He is rough and animalistic, looking up at me with eyes full of heat as he sets my ass down on top of the dresser. I guess not having sex with me last night was harder on him than I thought it would be, because he is—hard. Wow, he is so hard against my thigh as he kisses my neck. I try to unbutton his jeans, but he pushes my hand away, pulls his shirt off over his head and drops his pants in one swift movement.

I knew from the moment I first saw him that he could get naked fast, but that was the fastest I’ve seen him do it so far. Before I have a chance to reach for his cock, he growls and yanks my lounge pants and panties down, the shock making me jump a little so he can pull them off past my ass and to the floor. I start to raise my arms so he can remove my top and bra, but he is already pushing inside of me. I gasp, but I am already so wet for him, it only hurts for a second, and once he’s thrusting into me, the dresser slamming against the wall, his hands holding me in place by the hips, I forget everything.

There was no last night, there’s no rain, there are no questions, there is no end to this summer, there is only this.

His breathy grunting, the heat between us, the savage need to be a part of each other in a way that’s so uncomplicated, the only word I can remember now is yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Blissed-out after showering, tangled up in each other on the bed, I feel emboldened enough to risk the question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is there anything else that I should know about you? Anything you’re afraid of telling me?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to get upset.”

“I’m not.”

“When you were out in the lobby, Russell mentioned something.”

“Oh that sounds promising.”

“Something Sadie told him.”

“I knew it. I knew something was up.”

“I just don’t like him knowing something that I don’t. If that’s the case.”

“Yeah. Fucking principals. You know, when I was in high school the guy was always trying to “make an example” out of me.”

“The principal?”

“He was a dick. I know they aren’t all like that, but I guess I have a bias against them. She knew that, too. I’m not saying that’s why she started with him, but…I wouldn’t put it past her.” The way he says “she” when he’s referring to Sadie. He can’t even say her name right now.

“Wait, so it has to do with the principal of your high school?”

“Not exactly.” He sighs.

Here we go.

He sits up and looks down at my face, I’m sure I look so worried. I sit up too, pull my legs up to my chest and hug them in.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, honest. You know my Mom died when I was fourteen, after being sick for about a year. I was really close to her, you know, total mama’s boy. Gabe went off to college the next year, dealt with things his own way, so it was just me and my Dad, who just threw himself into his business. I don’t blame him for that, it’s just that I was a mess.”

“I’m sure,” I say, putting my hand on his knee, the other over my heart.

“I was just angry all the time. I was out all the time, not with a rough crowd exactly, but they were older and they weren’t the good kids. I never actually messed around in school, but the principal kept picking on me even though he knew my Mom had died, and I just kept getting more and more angry, drinking and just fucking around, and one day after school I was in a corner store with my friends and this asshole who was pissed at me because the girl he liked was into me, he kept taunting me and said ‘aww why don’t you go cry to your mommy—oh wait you can’t.’ It was so stupid but I just lost it. I punched him and we got into a fight, I pushed him and knocked over a bunch of shelves in the store and the shelves hit the store window, which shattered, and it was a big loud mess.

The guy’s arm was broken and he had a black eye but he was mostly being a spaz because he couldn’t fight for shit. The owner of the store and the guy’s parents pressed charges. So I was arrested when I was fifteen, that’s the big awful thing, and I’m sure it set off a bunch of alarms in your ex’s head, but that was the only incident like that. Wait, that’s not exactly true. I got into a bar fight when I was twenty, but the guy was a buddy of mine and we were both being drunk idiots, so it wasn’t a big thing, it was just stupid. Other than that, I used to sleep around a lot, but you knew that.”

“Wait, but were you…incarcerated?”

“No. I mean, I was detained after I was arrested. The judge was pretty understanding of my situation, so I was sentenced to community service and probation and mandatory anger management counseling and my Dad had to pay the kid’s medical bills and to fix up the store. I paid him back as soon as I started making money from bucket drumming.”

“Were you afraid to tell me about all that?”

“Not at all, it’s just not something that usually comes up in conversation. I didn’t go to jail. I don’t have a record. I could run for public office if I wanted to. And after Charlie was born I stopped drinking so much. After Clara left, I started seeing Dr. Glass again regularly for a while, because I wanted to make sure I never snapped at him if I was in a mood, and I haven’t.”

“So you have a therapist?”

“The social worker I started seeing when I was fifteen. She eventually got another degree and started a private practice. She’s cool, you’d like her. I don’t always agree with her. At least, I don’t always take her advice. I hardly ever take her advice actually, but…” He looks at me and suddenly takes in a sharp breath. “I have never physically hurt anyone since that bar fight, and I would never, ever hurt you. You have to believe me.”

“I do.”

“Do you?”

I nod. “How many walls have you punched?” I tried to say it without sounding accusatory.

“Well. I’ve smashed a few inanimate objects over the years and I am not proud of that. I’m not perfect. I’m not trying to be. It’s like those Rumi poems you gave me, I’m just trying to have the feelings and use my feeling words, and all that…crap.”

I laugh.

“I do like Dr. Glass, but I hate therapy, I really do. I just want to be able to deal with my anger in a way that doesn’t hurt anybody. Or things.”

I put my hand on his face.

“Does that change anything for you?”

I shake my head and kiss him. “Lucky for you, I’ve spent a lot of my life with a secret crush on Dallas Winston.”

“Thank God.” He kisses me back. “Wait—who?”

“He’s a character from The Outsiders. You must have read it in school.”

“Wait—he’s the one who was an actual criminal who was in gangs.”

“Well, I’m not literally comparing you to him, it’s just…Okay, if I’m being honest, it was more Matt Dillon from the movie.”

“Matt Dillon? You could run into him like at any time around New York, I always see him around.”

“You do?...Wait, are you actually jealous of my crush on early-Eighties Matt Dillon?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t want anyone else touching you.”

“I don’t want anyone else touching you.” I kiss him again.

He starts to pull my top off.

“Wait, wait.” I kiss him three more times and then stop. “I have to ask one more thing.”

He says nothing, just waits for it.

“Do you really think it was fate that we met?”

“Well, I’ve never been this lucky, and my karma cannot be that great.”

I wrap my arms around him and hold him so tight.

I feel so much love for him, I check the skin on my bare arms, because it feels like it should be oozing out of me, I can’t possibly contain it all. Immediately following this rush of love is a fear that makes me feel ashamed. I feel ashamed that I can’t get past the fear and I feel angry at myself, my first boyfriend, Sadie and Russell for doubting that what I have with Vince is anything more than a rebound. He deserves so much pure love and I want to give it to him, but what I have right now is a potent cocktail of emotions. If I cut myself I am certain that my blood would be bright blue, the color of the Adios Motherfucker he made me that first night. The fact that I have even had that thought terrifies me and I feel my whole body shivering.

“Nina,” he says, rubbing my arms. He rests his forehead against mine. “Nina, I—”

I cover his lips with mine and kiss him.

No more words.

I can’t take anymore.