She knew I was lying. She always knew. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I scoffed. ‘We haven’t spoken since middle school,’ I pointed out. �...Now you want to have a heart to heart? Sorry, but no thanks.’ She looked as if I’d slapped her. ‘I’m sorry. You just… looked like you needed a friend. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.’ She started away. A flood of guilt washed over me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, quickly. And then more calmly, I repeated it. ‘I’m sorry, Maranda. Bad day. Bad month.’ She stopped and. The torches lit near them offered warmth from the crisp ocean breeze, which even in the height of summer was cool in the evening. Walking on the sand as they made their way to their room, the couple enjoyed the hushed dark of the night. Stopping him, she gently kisses his lips, tasting a bit of the ocean and the wine they had finished between the two of them. His arms wrap around her, and their bodies fit together. She can feel the stirrings of his erection against her, and she moans, deepening. More

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