I feel shattered afterwards, a scarecrow torn into pieces and left scattered around the fields. Davis holds me close, kissing the back of my neck as he murmurs my name. My pants are still around my knees, my shirt somewhere in the grass nearby, and Davis is buck naked behind me, nothing on but that used condom still dangling from his limp member and lying wet between my thighs. I try to smooth out the grass imprints on his arms but the pink flesh stays indented. The fairgrounds still sound so far away, but the sun has begun to slant along the fields. I lace my fingers through his, hug his arms against my chest—I want to lie here forever, trapped in the circle of his embrace.
But footsteps swishing through the grass near the fence remind us that we’re not alone. Reluctantly I sit up, dust
