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‘I won’t drink,’ he said. ‘I’ve got ice tea in the cooler. I’ll grab your beer while you’re changing.’ He leapt from the couch heading...for the fridge. I flung open the door to my closet, throwing on my finest road farming apparel, cut offs and a spaghetti strap tee shirt. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror dragging a brush through my hair and binding it with a band into a massive ponytail. I applied an extra layer of deodorant, which I knew was fruitless, in this heat, degree only applied. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t there, he was always there, nor was he in any of the other bars. Finally as the heavens opened and the rain poured down I stumbled home, feeling dejected and insecure. And there he was, standing in my doorway, waiting. He turned toward me as I walked toward him, and without speaking he pulled me to him, his lips finally finding mine as the rain soaked through to our skin. We stood like that for what felt like forever, exploring each other. As our lips parted. More

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